


Sub Clar De Lună

by waelsele



Category: Hellsing
Genre: F/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Post-Canon, Revenge, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:41:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27207565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waelsele/pseuds/waelsele
Summary: Out of sync with the world around her, Seras finds herself clinging to the old even as the new is being ushered in. Her master's return thirty years later stirs up more than memories and might even lead to more than the mere expected. AxS
Relationships: Alucard/Seras Victoria
Comments: 28
Kudos: 47





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm of the opinion you can never really have too much of a good thing - in my case Seras/Alucard fics. So...I'm contributing, just so I can complain later there are not enough of these things around.

Her master once told her that vampires did not suffer from any such a malady as night terrors. Seras had come to agree with him. Unlike nightmares, imagined fancies of insubstantial quality more apt to befuddle and dismay, memories had a way of twisting into one's very soul, the stain of their power everlasting. After so many years, the exact expression on her mother's face, frozen in terror, mouth gaping and unseeing eyes staring at hers, during that precise moment, still stood in sharp relief to all else; the insurmountable horror of it all preserved as though in amber. Her own pain as the bullet broke skin and tore into flesh, burrowing deeply within her, was as nothing to that; what a curious thing the mind was. At least she no longer wept when awaking from such dreams, for whatever that was worth.

Were she still alive, her heart would have pounded away within her chest. Unconsciously, a steady limb rose until her palm was resting just above her heart, eyes darting towards a superfluous clock hanging on the wall. Her body knew all too well that the sun yet dominated the skies. She should have slept in her coffin, she thought rather bleary yet. Rising her other hand as well, she used it to rub at the back of her neck in what should have been a comforting motion. A swiftly beating heart might have helped her dispel the tension as it settled. Her unchanging body, however, merely frustrated any effort on her part to vent in such a fashion.

Seras closed her eyes for a moment entirely aware of the gentle shift within her own mind. She allowed herself a small smile as the mattress dipped with the addition of more weight. "Police girl, it is too early in the day to stir about." Nevertheless, he had come to her. Opening herself to him more, she allowed the brush of their minds to prolong and deepen, the swell of pleasure within her proclaiming the rightness of the choice. It had been far too long. _Far too long indeed._ Her master's voice crooned within the darkness of her own head, the ripple of his voice raising the hairs on the back of her neck even as it coated her insides with something altogether hard to describe.

"I did not mean to disturb your rest," she told him, just for the record. "I've not had this particular memory intrude upon my sleep of late." She wondered briefly if he had taken it in as well, the scene. She opened her eyes, lowering them from his face with the demureness of a supplicant before a mighty god. If her awe was quite as transparent to him as it was to her Seras didn't know. She didn't want to know. Thirty years of absence had twisted the fledgling trepidation and fondness of a child beyond all recognition. She had spoken to him constantly in her mind because she had needed him there with her and throughout her unwavering trust in his return, something entirely different had been cemented in her heart.

Longing.

The word tasted bitter on her tongue, like so much ash forced down her throat. It was natural enough, she expected; she often longed for her parents in the orphanage. But it wasn't a father figure she sought in her master; or it wasn't that entirely, even if at times he did rather put her in the mind of an intransigent parent never quite pleased with their child's performance. Rather, Seras wanted someone like her. Someone who understood. And who else but the creature that had made her in his image might fulfil that need? Making the barest of sounds in the back of her throat, she offered a silent apology. _I don't wish to keep you, Master._ As if to prove her point, she lowered herself back onto the mattress, registering no longer than a moment's surprise when he followed down that path.

As a newborn fledgling, she had made her way to his coffin a few times. And he had allowed it; she assumed it was much in the same way a parent allowed their child the comfort of a warm embrace during a long night when the cracking of branches and the hooting of owls proved itself fuel for unknown terrors. But never once had he sought to commandeer her sleeping arrangements similarly. All the same, his long form took up space on her bed, more or less forcing her body to move backwards and against the wall, unless she wished to refuse his presence. Hesitantly, she eyed him as he was, lying on his back, staring at the ceiling.

"Thank you," she whispered, reaching out to touch his shoulder. Her body curled inwards, as if her extremities were doing their level best to tug her into his side. Seras thought she heard Pip stir within the confines of her mind then, but soothed him back into rest and closed her eyes against the unfamiliar desire. It was because she had not seen him in so long. She had missed him. Naturally she would wish for closeness.

Seras felt the press of his mind upon her own and gave in without the slightest of oppositions. Tendrils of pure darkness seemed to crawls along the space she allowed, swallowing everything in their path. Pleased with the effect it had upon her, she relaxed and gave into the somnolent demands of her body. _Sleep. For now._ It was equally heartening to know her master had plans for her; why else should he add the last part.

 _Sleep._ She agreed. Submerged once more under the waters of restful slumber, she did not even notice her grip tightening on his shoulder or the fact that far from loosening her fingers once she would not take note of it, he only closed his eyes to the world, fully ready to sink in with her. She would not have known what to make of it anyway at such a point.

When she awoke it was to an empty bed, save for her own body. Stomach gurgling with hunger, she eased her way off the mattress, looking about in an almost hopeful manner. But it was not to be. And as it was to be her night off as well, she did not even have the hope of some mishap forcing them into each other's path. Pip commiserated with her as best he could, and what he offered settled her some. Of course, she had to remember that her master had another guiding star altogether. It would not do to let herself be so very affected by his return. Shaking away any and all hints of doldrums, she went about straightening her sheets and replacing the pillows on the bed, before preparing herself carefully for the outing she had long since planned.

It took very little power these days to freshen up and an even smaller amount to materialise clothing onto herself. Nevertheless, she still did all that before a mirror, more so she might see it with her own eyes. The girl in the looking glass smiled at her, a bright cheerful grin affixed to her pale visage. Still, she looked well enough, Seras contemplated, leaning in until her fingertips met smooth glass. Her counterpart had drawn closer as well, strands of pale blonde hair falling forth. She was glad she'd allowed it to grow out some if she did say so herself. Happy enough with the results of her scrutiny, she pronounced herself ready to leave as soon as her feet found their way into a pair of flats. Such shoes did nothing for height, but then she would be walking a fair amount, as she always did on such occasions. The Lord knew there were more than enough streets to tire even her out.

The soldiers greeted her as she passed by and she returned that with a small wave of her own. Most of them were part of a new batch; she had had some interaction with them during the selection process. And even more interaction when she trained them twice a week; Monday bright and early and Thursdays, a little less bright and early. She passed by one Andrew Phelps just at the door and he saluted rather than give her words. Pip's agreement with the man's actions almost wrested a smile from her. His comment with regards to the respected she was owed had her redoubling her efforts to keep a neutral expression. She nevertheless managed to escape, out the door and onto the path leading away towards the great gates of the estate.

Seras eyed the heavy moon hanging abovehead and smiled, feeling a sharp fang press against thin skin. Her lips would not suffer undue harm, however. They hadn't in such a long time. Grin widening at the thought, she meandered along, following the thin ribbon of paved road. The lawn stretching out before her was verdant and trim, the work of careful hands ; she enjoyed very much the way ghostly moonlight glistened over blades of grass and tiny bushes. Nature changed, unlike herself and it fascinated her to watch the slow pitch towards death it took only to return again and again. She walked and walked, comfortable enough in the routine of it all. Solitude was a given.

Even when master had first turned her, it was she who'd had need of him and not the other way around; it was she who sought him out, whenever she managed to brave her cowardly inclinations and it remained she who ran to him until his untimely disappearance. She was used to the isolation. And the fact she knew he would be there, in the Hellsing mansion upon her return left her a great deal happier than she had been in the past three decades. Her feet carried her to her usual venue, a criss-cross of mostly deserted streets. Seras kept her pace even and slow. In another life, she would have been shaking with repressed fear. In another life, she mused, lifting her face to grin at the partially obscured moon, hidden by the tall, broad body of a dilapidated building.

A soft sound from somewhere ahead caught her attention. Expanding her senses, Seras could make out the frantic beating of hearts along with harsh breathing. Cocking her head to the side, she took a moment to decide whether she ought to interfere. Largely, Sir Integra allowed her these outings with the express understanding that she would not reveal the truth of her existence to the outside world. Like a child of the Victorian times, she was to remain unobtrusive, unseen and unheard unless specifically requested by the adults governing their every movement. She took an uncertain step forth just as a shriek rent through the deserted space, swiftly repressed within a moment. A heavy groan followed.

If Sir Integra decided she had acted out of order, she would be punished, but at least her conscience would be clean. Seras broke out in a run, her feet eating away at the distance between her and what hat to be some instance of assault. She came upon a vaguely familiar scene. A man, not very tall, barely standing above her own petite height, was bent over what looked to be an injured young woman. She caught him in the middle of delivering quite the vile threat.

Without further thought, she leaped into action, grabbing his arm and twisting it behind him, closing her ears to both his cry of pain and the woman's scream of terror. Her left arm crossed to settle against his throat, tugging him into her with just enough force to make breathing uncomfortable. Her victim, stunned and disoriented in no small measure, struggled fruitlessly in a bid to escape. She would not allow him such a victory though and merely rammed his head into the nearest wall, knocking him clean out with the force of the blow. He went limp in her arms, his weight seeming to double. Seras let his drop, turning to look at the woman.

Only, it was no woman. Rather, huddled against the wall, curled up into herself, sobbing, was a girl. A young girl if she wasn't mistaken, not yet even done with her studies from the looks of it. The grey skirt of her school uniform had been smeared with dirt and dark streaks were smudged against the skin of her leg. Seras could smell no blood, thus assumed the girl hadn't been bodily injured beyond being a bit roughened up. Her training as a law enforcement operative kicked in as she knelt in front of the frightened child. "Miss, we can't remain here," she said, keeping her voice flat so as to not startle the poor thing. "We have to get up now. Can you stand?"

The weeping dulled to weary sniffling, but a dark head of hair bobbed up and down. Seras nodded back. "I will help you up." She pushed away from the ground and held her hand out. It took the other a moment to grip her hand, the hold clammy and slightly unpleasant. She'd forgotten just how warm humans could be to the touch. If the girl thought anything of her cool touch in turn, she said nothing. Carefully, she led the both of them away from the unconscious man. He would be out cold for some time and though she might have contemplated feeding on the bastard under different circumstances, she refused to leave a scared girl alone to fend for herself. At least she would lead her to the nearest inhabited area. "Say, do you have a name?"

"Poppy Collins," a squeaky voice replied. To her surprise, Poppy was quite tall, towering over Seras in what would have surely been a comical sight in a more relaxed environment.

"That's a right pretty name you have, Miss Collins" she answered, allowing her voice to soften. "I'm–" Before she got the change to go any further several voices intruded upon the newly restored silence of the narrow street. A few figures emerged from around the corner furthest ahead, all calling out to Poppy.

Seras drew back from the girl, keeping a steadying hand only to save her from crashing to the ground. Still, she had to admit she was happy enough the child had family to look after her. Smiling up into her face, she noted for the first time a pair of sunken hazel eyes. "Poppy, there you are!" A man, tall and rangy, drew abreast of them both, placing a hand on Poppy's shoulder.

"Pat. She saved my life." Pat, of unknown connection to Poppy, stared at Seras, his thin face the colour of tallow. "There's a man back there, in the alley. She left him flat on the ground."

"That means you saved my sister." It was as he spoke those words that the other two finally reached them. The first was an older woman, younger than Sir Integra by the looks of her, but well beyond the first blush of youth. The other was a man in the later stage of his life. "Patrick Collins," he held his hand out; Seras shook it briefly. She did not miss the elderly man trudging to the unconscious scum she'd left lying on the filthy ground.

"She sure did a good number on him." The words were low. The other didn't even hear them. But Seras did and she froze, hairs rising on the back of her neck for an entirely different reason than feeling her master's presence close by. She knew that voice. She'd heard it before. She'd heard it for years and years and years, mocking her, taunting her with grunts and groans of completion as its owner savaged the cooling body of her beloved mother. She just knew; there was no mistaking it.

"This is my mother, Amanda." Amanda Collins had moved to her daughter's side, grabbing hold of her protectively, speaking to the man in the alley, calling him father of all things. That piece of human refuse had fathered a daughter; he had gone on to live a good life after what he'd done. She wanted to scream. She wanted to turn on her heel and eviscerate him where he stood, witnesses or no witnesses. But she couldn't. There were witnesses. She had promised not to stand out. She would not be the only one punished, she was certain.

Seras knew she couldn't be selfish. They'd never caught the two bastards who had broken into their home and gunned down her parents. She had no evidence and no way of acquiring said evidence. Glancing over her shoulder, she bit back a threatening growl as he emerged from the darkness. Three dots of scarred flesh from where she'd stabbed him with a fork. He looked no more threatening than any old man. "Practice at some club, do you?" He reached out his hand and it was all she could do not to rip the damned arm out of its socket and beat him to death with it. But that she couldn't do. Not unless she wanted to have Sir Integra ordered her ripped apart by her newly returned master.

"Something like that," she responded, not knowing whether she came off as cold or merely flat. She shook his hand.

"Maurice Collins. Thank you for saving my little granddaughter here." God, even his name made her want to hit him.

On a whim, unable to contain herself, she answered in a rather dangerous way. "Seras Victoria." She expected some haziness to his gaze, perhaps a flicker of fear. Even something in the vein of defiance; but the man merely nodded, as though the name meant nothing to him. As though he couldn't even remember the family he'd murdered in cold blood, the woman whose corpse he'd desecrate because she was still warm. She had to leave; she had to get away before she did something she couldn't take back. "Excuse me," she spoke softly, "you'll have to take care of this on your own. I'm expected elsewhere."

She took off without a glance back, using but a fraction of her speed while she was still in sight. Only after she managed to find her way back into empty streets, did she force her legs to greater and greater efforts until she stood on the steps of the manor, face in her hands. Finally a name; she finally had a name but no chance of revenge and no hope of a chance either. Frustration crawled its way up her throat as distress mounted. Her shadow had been trembling and shaking, jittery in a way that told her Pip was ever so attuned to her sorrow. She would put it from her mind, as there was nothing she could do. Mind made up, she took a deep unnecessary breath.

Strengthening her mental shields, Seras phased back into her bedroom. A couple of blood packs had been left for on the desk pressed up against the wall, along with a note. She picked up one of the packs, biting into it. Cold, stale blood rushed past her lips and down her throat with every suckling motion. Her other hand reached for the note. So Grant truly had looked for what she'd asked; she had to admit the man was doing well enough in his duties as butler, even if he did have a tendency of shying away from her whenever they were in company and forever looking at the ground. Date and time confirmed, Seras had only to hope no disaster of great proportions ruined her plans. One blood pack down and she was feeling slightly better; how odd that vampires and humans should share such a trait. Food truly did solve all problems. Seras replaced the note.

She reached for the second pack, narrowly missing grabbing hold as her senses screamed of danger. She flew back, glaring at the wall where her master hovered. "Never tell me you've grow even more lily-livered during my absence."

"You startled me, master," she ground out past her fraying nerves. Moving closer in, she snatched up her small pack of sustenance and bit down into it.

"Oddly enough, police girl, it seemed to me you reeked of fear long before I," he paused long enough to cock his head to the side, "err, startled you, wasn't it?" She glared at his obvious mocking of her and continued to drink her blood. Idly he reached out for her note, turning it to and fro before her mind caught onto what he was doing.

When it finally dawned on her that her privacy was being violated before her eyes in so obvious a fashion, she had to protest. "That is mine, my master, and certainly no business of yours." She held her hand out for the piece of paper, fingers moving in a demanding motion.

"Keeping secrets from your master, are you?" She blinked uncertainly, wondering if it was worth explaining once more that correspondence of any and all kind she exchanged with any and all individuals were not and would never be his concern.

"Hardly." All the same, she would rather not disclose every single recreational activity she partook in to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hereby formally complain there are nowhere near enough Seras/Alucard fics around.


	2. Chapter 2

"Rickmansworth, Sir?" Seras questioned, taken aback by how close the threat was. It was not often that the weaker denizens of the night ventured so close to them. Still and all, it meant she had a target to destroy. It did not bother her as much as it might have in the past. Sir Integra breathed in deeply, the cigarillo she held between her slender fingers crumbling away even further. "I'll be back before you even know I'm gone," she laughed. "How many men am I getting?"

"Sergeant Farnsworth will go with you along with his men. I don't expect you'll be needing them, but they'll come in handy for cleanup, no doubt. Try not to cause too much damage to your surroundings now." Seras grinned at that tone of voice; it was almost motherly. No matter that the two of them were nearly of an age.

"Sir, yes sir," she saluted. She could read most of the file on the road. If she were travelling alone, she'd have made use of her speed, but the Seras had noticed her men were in ever better spirits if she kept close to them. That, naturally, meant blending in. She didn't need to worry for men like Farnsworth; he was a stout wall with more almost three decades of active service for the Hellsing organisation. He'd seen her do everything from singing carols to ripping enemies apart. It was the newer men she had to set at ease. While it was well known among the men that she was a vampire, Seras still enjoyed showing them that she wasn't much of a danger as far as their lives were concerned. They were her men; she would protect them to the best of her abilities.

Her orders clear, she took herself off, knowing that the soldiers would be still gearing up. She had an hour before she needed to report to the vehicle. Which meant she could pester her master in the hopes of finding out just where he was being sent. Sir Integra had briefed them separately, which could only mean both had taken on solo assignments, as it were. Seras skipped her way down the stairs of the basement, jogging lightly to her master's chamber. She knocked politely, knowing only too well that he was behind the door. His presence, at least, was unmistakable. There was no answer, but the door did creek open as though under its own power.

"Good evening, Master," she called out to the blackness yawning out before her. The shadows shook, their welcoming twitches coaxing a smile from her. It was as overt a sign as she was ever going to get on that score. Alucard seemed to be truly pleased that she sought him out of her own volition, even if all they did was have their meals together in companionable silence. She allowed her own shade to mingle with the others before stepping fully within and closing the door with a soft thud. "I take it you are pleased with your mission then."

The darkness fell open to reveal her seated master, holding a glass of blood-wine indolently between long, elegant fingers. "Good evening to you as well, police girl." She scowled softly at the moniker. "Why would I be pleased with such offerings as my Master has provided? Weak, impotent creatures that crawl about mindlessly; the only thing they know is hunger. Vermin, the lot of them." His lips curled in disdain, presumably at the thought of his hunt that night. Seras paused for only a moment before walking to the table, her chest filling with some unnamed emotion as the shadows receded even further to uncover her own seat. A couple of blood packs awaited her. Master must have retrieved them from her room. "The world is sorely lacking in challenges."

"Oh, Master," she snorted good-naturedly. "I highly doubt anyone around these parts could give you a good run for your money." Seras bit into her meal with gusto, downing the contents of the pack, becoming aware of her master's eyes on her only as the last dregs of blood spilled upon her tongue. Releasing her grip on the pack, she lifted her head to meet his scrutiny properly. "Something the matter, Master?"

An amused rumble answered her. The highly chilling quality to her master's laughter had not changed in the least. She dared a small grin of her own, depositing the deflated bag on the table and running her finger against the second one, contemplating whether she should take it with her instead of draining it then. She could always phase atop the vehicle and drink it there, the wind playing in her hair, pale moon-glow caressing her. Farnsworth's men knew her well enough, most of them having been with Hellsing for a few years by that point. "Still thinking of such nonsense, I see." She must have dropped her shields, Seras realised, holding back an annoyed sigh, correctly interpreting the older vampire's admonishment as for her concern for the common soldiery.

"You have your way of working with the troops," she said. His way mostly involved inducing small heart-attacks among the men's ranks by scaring the poor sods witless. "And I have mine; there's no need to be petty about our differences, is there now?"

"Petty?" His tone was sharp. Seras leaned back in her seat, no longer fiddling with the blood pack. "What exactly do you hope to accomplish by acting as you do?" Quite frankly, she was surprised he didn't know. But since he had asked, it would be boorish not to enlighten him.

"I'm hoping to build some healthy rapport with the troops. It makes for a better performance on their part and I enjoy it." He frowned. "They're under no illusion with regards to my nature, Master. They know full and well what I am." Seras smiled contently, "and they know who I am." The lines of tension in Alucard's face eased some; he seemed to be mulling her answer over.

"They are no friends to you, police girl. I hope you understand that at least." He placed his wineglass on the table with a soft clinking sound. His words sounded like a warning.

She knew that. The soldiers relied on her to dispatch that which they could not hope to touch. Some were friendly towards her, but not once had she encouraged true closeness between them. "I understand. But they are still people I work with. Speaking of work, where are you headed, Master?"

"Luton." That was a bit further away than her. Seras frowned. She'd hoped they might meet on the way back. But then they had some action after too much silence. She shouldn't become too greedy. "I don't expect it to take long."

"Never with you, my Master," she approved. "I hope Sir Integra will send us on a mission together soon though." Much as she disliked the thought of civilians in danger, hurt or damaged beyond repair, she couldn't help but miss the good old days. "It's been forever since," she trailed off, catching herself before she could say too much. The last thing her master needed was his ego stroked. The thing was massive enough as was. "It's just been forever."

She felt him against the tightly locked barriers of her mind. He wasn't pushing her in any way. Slowly, cautiously, she allowed him entrance. "Has it?" Her body helplessly trembled at the sound of his voice. "I suppose it has." Seras wasn't sure what he'd been looking for, but he must have been pleased with whatever he found as he retreated with something akin to a caress. "Rickmansworth may be closer, but you are slower."

"Maybe I am," she allowed. Having finally reached a decision with regards to the blood pack, she picked it up and bit into it. If she hurried, she could down it and then hie away to the assembly point. Farnsworth would be waiting with his impeccable timing. "We'll have to see who gets back first, won't we?" The question lingered between them as she stood, the coppery taste of blood dissipating as their eyes met and held. Her master stood as well.

Before Seras could take proper leave of him, however, long arms reached for her. A yelp was her only response as Alucard dragged her forward, the shadows gathering around their bodies, rendering them insubstantial, as they phased together. As a general rule, Seras did not phase before the soldiers. She used stairs and doors and other mundane means of moving from one space to the next. Gasps and startled exhalations greeted her as her feet touched ground.

"Ma'am," Sergeant Thomas Farnsworth saluted at her arrival. Seras twisted in her master's grasp to respond with a nod. He did not seem too shaken by the entrance. "Everything is ready. We only await your word." Alucard's hold retreated. She didn't know what he was doing, but she could see Farnsworth tensing. The troops had been made aware of her master soon after his return, but they'd yet to grow easy around him. For his part, her master did not seem to care about the men either way. She just hoped he wasn't trying to torment these poor souls just trying to do their job.

"Good man." Breaking away from the elder Midian's side, she took form steps towards the Sergeant. "Who's with us tonight?" Seras asked, eyes moving to the small line of soldiers waiting near a loaded vehicle.

"Krenshaw, Renfield, Stanton, Nowak and Zimmerman, along with myself." Not a big team, but then she reckoned the threat was minimal, from what Sir Integra had disclosed. Seras nodded, indicating to the man that she'd be right along. "Right then, ma'am, we depart in fifteen."

Approaching the team, Seras gave a short greeting. "I'm sure Searge took care to inform the lot of you on all relevant aspects of the mission. As always, keep your eyes peeled, don't play the hero and for the love of God, don't get in my way."

"Wouldn't dream of it, mum," Nowak said, a grin lifting one side of his mouth. "Ain't none of us planning to become targets, wot." Zimmerman snorted.

"Glad to hear, Corporal. Now if we're clear, you lot go on." Turning on her heel, she almost cocked her head to the side when noting her master hadn't moved from his previous spot, apparently taken up with observing the unfolding scene. Behind her she could hear the soldiers muttering amongst themselves, conversations rife with speculation, theories and what not. Keeping her usual pace, she walked back to Alucard, leaning in ever so slightly when she came to a stop. Something displeased him. She could feel the irritation, sharp, thorny thing that it was. _I wonder what that look is for._ He didn't answer. That too had not changed from their earlier days it would seem. Holding back a pout, an unworthy tactic for someone of her calibre, she instead reached out and bodily touched her master's arm, even knowing it was a daring move. "I'll be going then, my master. Fair hunt to you."

If he didn't wish to share his thoughts with her, he wouldn't. And unlike him, who she was well aware, could easily force her to do as he pleased, she hadn't that sort of control over him. Perhaps Sir Integra might; Seras shook that thought loose. It did no good to dwell on such matters; she pushed it from her mind and made her way to the vehicle, climbing in with ease.

Careful of the equipment placed within, she stepped to her customary seat at the end of the bench. Her men filed in, Zimmerman plopping down by her, with Renfield following. Nowak sat opposite her with Stanton. Krenshaw was driving and Farnsworth was in the passenger's seat.

"Begging pardon, mum, but I have to say the other one scares the living piss out of me," Zimmerman commented. "It's that look he's got; all evil, I reckon."

She chuckled softly. It was a normal reaction as far as she was concerned. Only a fool would take her master lightly. "No need for pardon, Private. Alucard would take it for a compliment, I'm sure." Or perhaps he'd merely take it as his due.

"Don't it bother you the way 'e looks at you, mum?" Nowak piped in, his tone a curious mixture of curiosity and incredulity. Seras frowned back at him. "Close like."

"Well," she shrugged, amused more than anything at such an outcome, "I am his protégé." Still his childe; and so she would remain for as long as she did not drink his blood. "Don't you worry none, Nowak." That seemed to put an end to the subject.

It wouldn't be long before master was back to his usual antics and then these men would grow used to him. Of that much she was certain. Plus, Sir Integra had fairly ordered him not to injury any of her men. If anything, Iscariot was more of a danger to them than Alucard. Relaxing in her seat, Seras returned her attention to the ongoing conversation. Renfield was complaining about Krenshaw's driving skills, threatening to cast his accounts to the unremitting enjoyment of his companions, who responded with jibes and good-natured teasing.

The entire truck shook, tarp overhead included. They must have hit a pothole in the road. Sometimes, by which Seras meant whenever she had something to take care of outside of London, the roads seemed to enjoy distorting, falling apart and becoming a minefield of cracks and holes, shaking her. Quite frankly, she would have preferred the nausea phasing induced during her early days as a vampire. Of course, the reaction had been mitigated by her master's arms around them, steady, firm. In such moments, he made her feel safe, ironic as that might sound; her killer, the one who'd ripped her forever from the hope of sun and normalcy, made her feel safe. How was that for a twisted happy ever after. Blood ever after was more accurate.

Another jolt sent Zimmerman into her side, his head knocking against her shoulder. Seras steeled herself at the moment of impact, remaining unmoved. An elbow dug into her side as Zimmerman fought to righten himself. Expletives exploded on his tongue, followed by a hasty apology. "Ma'am, these damned roads will be the death of me."

"More like Krenshaw's driving will kill us," Renfield finally spoke. He glared at where Krenshaw would be seated. "Can't be long now. Stanton, how long do you reckon?"

"Not long now." Seras caught Stanton's eye and smiled at him. He gave a snort exasperated nod. It was going to be a good night. Of that she was certain.

Warping away from the men, she seated herself atop the tarp, allowing her shadow to stretch out around her. Pip fidgeted, but did not react otherwise to their surroundings. She prodded him but when he remained dormant Seras left him to it.

* * *

Blood splattered across her chest, streaks dripping over her flesh, warming it. Seras grinned at the scattering of torn limbs on the ground. That was the last of them by her count. She grabbed hold of the flare gun she'd been holding onto and raised it towards the sky, pressing the trigger. It shouldn't take long for the men to reach her. In the meantime, she could roam around and see what information she might gather. Much as she liked to think the two cretins she'd taken out responsible for the whole mess around her, their words had actually indicated there was more to it than that. Sir Integra would want to know as much as she possibly take back to her.

Seras eyes the corpses at her feet, scanning the bits and pieces strewn across the ground, wrinkling her nose at the waste. It was not as though vampires needed ghouls. Even weak ones were more than capable of fulfilling their desires without mindless servants trailing them. As though it would've been the hardest thing to feed and then dispose of the wrappings, as it were. But no, they had to bite people just for the fun of it, cause panic and send the Hellsing organisation on their track. They'd always be caught in the end. And they would always be sent straight to hell.

She followed the scent of the weak vampires, tracking it through the streets to a small, one-story building. It was a family home from the looks of it. The front door was wide open. A shiver, unrelated to the pleasure of blood-spilling, ran down her spine. Seras stepped gingerly through the small door in the gate. She passed the entrance and found herself sitting in a comfortably wide hallway.

One of the walls was covered in blood, a vague humanoid shape barely discernible, as though someone had slumped against it. Seras growled softly; there was something wrong with the place. Besides the fact not a single soul could be heard about, there was a foul odour wafting about. She stopped breathing if only to keep from inhaling too much of it. She could only hope none of it would rub off on her. She didn't have the slightest wish to bring any of that home. Continuing her walk through the house, Seras peeked around the corner letting out a small screech at the unexpected sight awaiting her.

On the floors, ripped in a few chunks was a small body. Much too small to be an adult. Her stomach roiled uncomfortably and a moan of distress left her parted lips. The poor thing; she couldn't even tell whether she was looking at a boy or at a girl. The skull had been crushed, bone caving inward, pulpy soft tissue mixed in with brain matter. The chest had been ripped open as well. The rest of the body had simply been separated into pieces.

Unable to hold her gaze to the corpse for a moment longer, she lifted her eyes to a photograph nailed to the wall. A young boy in a school uniform was standing between two seated adults. The man was fair-haired and broad-shouldered. He had green eyes. Altogether a handsome specimen. The woman, a redhead of slim build covered in freckles, smiled beatifically at the onlookers. Seras tried to recall have ripped through ghouls of a similar description. Unfortunately, too many of them had passed between her claws for her to remember.

Feeling somewhat settled, or as much as anyone could be given the current circumstances, she eyes the boy on the ground once more. He'd not been fed upon, that much she was certain of. Raking his remnants carefully over, it was only then that she noticed a most curious detail. His heart was missing. Seras knelt down, reaching into the small ribcage, gently moving her hand through the gore in search of the organ. She came up short. It had been taken.

If the vampires had killed him, why had they taken the heart out? Why waste his blood as well? No answer came to her. Seras stood and bade her shadows clean her hand. She drifted from the corpse towards the basement. A light had been left in, as though beckoning her down. She followed, rounding a small corner.

One of the parents must have been working for the local law enforcement. Files and files were strewn across a large desk taking up most of the space inside the small room. She leaned in, drawing in a sharp, unwitting breath as a familiar design registered to her. She had seen it years ago, just a glimpse of it in police file carelessly left with her in the interrogation room. With trembling fingers, Seras reached out for the picture.

It made no sense. Why would the criminal organisation her father had infiltrated so many years ago be part of any case in Rickmansworth? But then why would it not? It had been nearly half a century; it made more sense that they would move rather than not. She opened the file, skimming over the handwritten summary which made up the first page. Names, places; she recognised Maurice Collins' name, of course. Her father was on the list as well, though his name was placed in parentheses after a crossed through name. Possibly the name he had infiltrated the organisation under.

Matthew Cribbons; the men who had come to their house hadn't called him Matthew. Or if they had, she had no recollection of it.

Seras snapped the file shut.

She was a vampire in service of the Hellsing organisation. Had she come across such information thirty years ago, she would have followed it to the ends of the earth to uncover who had killed her parents and seek her revenge. As matters stood, she could do nothing against humans. Sir Integra wouldn't allow it.

Fate sure had a twisted sense of humour.

The sound of heavy boots trampled abovehead. She heard her name being called. "Down in the basement!" she called back, recognising Farnsworth's distinctive timbre. Gracious, writing a report for the mission was going to be a headache.

* * *

Pain radiated in his gut, or rather the phantom of it so often resulting from his childe's restorative death-slumber. He suppressed it, knowing all too well their bond would see to it that her own ache was mitigated. It was familiar enough a memory by that point that he minded it none. Her distress continued to rustle in his head as the well-lit room with its blood-splattered walls and gawping corpses melted away. Unusual as the occurrence was, he only looked to the bleeding child on the ground, then strewn across a shadowed path, lit only by the thin golden glow of old streetlamps. Morphing, twisting and lengthening, the girl grew into the draculina he knew so well. Drained of life, the porcelain-quality of her skin became more pronounced in the swelling mirk. She was standing to her feet, eyeing the nothingness ahead with a distrustful gaze. It wasn't fear he felt rolling off of her. It was savage anger; delicious, blood-pounding ire. A flash of faces paraded before them, none of which he recognised.

The tension broke with an audible sound. Finding himself awake and staring at the padded interior of his coffin, he blinked sluggishly; she called to him, begging the relief of closeness offered by the ligature so ingrained between them. Alucard reached out towards his fledgling, realising belatedly what the cracking noise had been. The shadows swept him away.

She was climbing out of her coffin just as he materialised before her. Having perhaps expected his presence, she did not even startle at the approach, though he saw the slow build of tension in her muscle. "This is the second time now, police girl."

"You don't have to say it like that," she muttered crossly, eyes rising in a glare. When asleep, the walls of her mind were weak. Awake, however, she managed to mount a good enough approximation of what should be protecting her thoughts. The barrier remained sturdy against his delicate prodding, revealing neither crack nor fissure he might exploit in a bid to reach deep within her. He could, naturally, simply crush the whole of it under a sledgehammer blow of power; his draculina was strong, but nowhere near his strength yet. That would come, in time. "And you don't have to be here every time this happens, you know."

To say that after she had fairly begged to have him by her side; he snarled at her inability to grasp even the most basic aspects of their bond over the length of time they'd had together. He did not correct her, however; it would not do to feed her the information like she was some ignorant cretin. "I wouldn't, if a certain childe of mine didn't insist on disturbing my rest at every given opportunity." If only she'd concentrate half of that incredible willpower of hers into embracing her true self, she'd become a most worthy No-Life Queen in no time. Finally someone who could hope to stand proudly by his side.

"I don't." She stood to her full, albeit unimpressive, height, hands on her hips. Thirty years of hearing her constantly in his head had somehow worked towards an impression of grandeur on his part. Yet she'd remained, as before, a slip of a thing. "You can always just ignore me if I'm that much of a bother. You did it well enough before." Her voice had started to gain volume and that unsightly shrillness women had a fondness of whenever they called to mind some imagined slight. "I swear sometimes I don't even know why you bothered to turn me into a vampire to begin with if all I'm ever going to be is a nuisance."

"Might I remind you, my dear police girl, that it was your choice to come with me." He could feel the shadows lengthening around them, the violent shiver shaking them vigorously. Seras' own shades trembled in opposition. Planned to challenge him, did she? A low growl emitted from behind his firmly clenched teeth when she squared her shoulders. His warning was met with an obstinate sonorous grunt as his childe set herself against him. Thirty years hadn't cured her of that unguarded, impudent tongue. _It was you who pleaded to be saved, you little wretch. I merely acquiesced._

Her eyes widened, losing some of their innocent shine, as a rather malevolent streak asserted itself in their depths. "What was I supposed to do? Keel over and die? Of course I took what you offered! It wasn't much of a choice!" She resembled a proper vampire then, with her fangs bared, her eyes gleaming with fire and her moue set ever mulishly. She forgot, nevertheless, that he was master and she yet bound to him. And thus she would remain until she took his blood. He had offered it to her, some thirty years past, and she had refused. If she wished him to abide by their erstwhile bond, than she too had to follow along properly.

Without warning, he grabbed hold of her shoulders, fingers digging into soft flesh. The movement was meant to pin her into place, unless she wished to have her shoulders torn though. But Seras either did not see the danger or blatantly chose to ignore it, because the next thing he knew, she was pushing against him with unexpected strength. Forced back, he held fast onto her, knowing she would either come with him or bear deep gashes to show for her foolhardy resistance. The draculina fell forth though, struggling and pushing all the way, demanding he release her. As if he would be swayed by her word alone in that. Alucard rolled them over, bringing his forearm against her chest and pressing down viciously. The soft tissue beneath him gave way and the fledgling flailing uselessly let out a sharp keening sound. Seras snapped her teeth at him, pointed fangs clashing together. He snarled back at her, pressing punishingly into her small body once more. She whimpered and twisted. "Release me. Let me go."

For her part, Seras forced her body to pause in its fruitless endeavours after a time. Any movement she made only served to increase the pressure he exerted. Somehow they had ended up arguing once again. In spite of her intentions not to let her temper get the best of her, to show her master that she was a capable vampire and do him proud, she'd only managed to irk him. In her defence, he'd been the one to needle her first, forever trying to get under her skin and get a rise out of her. Well he'd succeeded; she was annoyed beyond belief at him. "Just get off of me and leave me alone." Her voice came out in what sounded suspiciously like a whine.

Knuckles dug under her chin and forced her face up. "You chose this, police girl." He was still on about that? Seras frowned. The steel band trapping her to the ground shoved uncomfortably into her breasts, painful but no less mortifying than the leather clad knee jabbed between her thighs, dangerously close to her very naked and increasingly aware intimate parts. If she were able to blush, she was fairly certain she'd resemble a tomato. Thankfully for her, vampires cycled their blood much too slow for such displays. Instead she wiggled as gently as she could, testing the strength of the vampire above her. He remained an immovable wall, holding her gaze demandingly. At least he took notice of nothing else.

Best keep him on course then. "Very well, I chose this. Are you happy now?" With the hands he'd trapped between them, she pushed at his chest. "Now get off, won't you? I can't be expected to hold your weight." In truth, the heaviness as not an unpleasant one and did not hurt in the least. It marked her as the weaker of the pair, to be sure; but then her master was a marvel. Such a creature could surely not be easily equalled. She wasn't bothered by the knowledge that he was her superior in such things. It was only natural that the more experienced and longer-lived vampire would be stronger. What bothered her was the response she had for it. And if he didn't move his arse that side of the century, she would not be held accountable for her actions.

Thankfully, her master seemed to be pleased enough with his victory. Her allowing that she had indeed chosen her path was followed by a slow release of pressure. Her abused chest smarted from the brutal treatment and she resisted the urge to raise her hands to it in comfort. Alucard climbed back to his feet, his shadows, darker than the blackness of night, swirled around them menacingly still. Seras sat up, tucking her legs under her and glaring at the elder Midian. "You got what you wanted; you can go now, Master."

As soon as the words left her mouth, long finger threaded through her locks, tugging her head back sharply, pulling painfully on her scalp. "You never learn," her master snorted. "Keep a civil tongue in that head of yours, police girl, or I will rip it out." And then he was gone, leaving behind nothing but the faint scent clinging to his skin ghosting around her.

Seras straightened her neck, rising small fingers to soothe over the burn in her scalp. She massaged the painful area for a few moments, wincing as the remnants of force caused a tingling sensation in her flesh. Hopefully, he'd gone back to his coffin and would not re-emerge before dusk. She did not plan on doing anything other than heading straight for her own coffin, sealing herself in and hopefully resting without another moment's disturbance.

In fairness, she couldn't help but think she'd reacted no better than a toddler to the whole affair. Her master was difficult to please. She had know as much for a long enough time that she ought not to have risen to his teasing. He wasn't doing it to hurt her. Even recognising that, her heart had still squeezed painfully in her chest at the admonishment. What rotten luck. Seras crawled her way back into her coffin, pulling the lid over. The plain interior boasted a comforting scent and the darkness safely enveloping her made her even more aware of the day's pull. Her tired body demanded its rest, urging her to throw any reservations to the wind. Her master would not be coming back for some time; she had ensured that with her little display. Sir Integra was probably poring over paperwork, the bane of her existence, and would not call her up. In truth, she didn't think the woman would be calling her up anymore, what with master's return. It was Alucard that was bound to her, after all, and not Seras. She had kept the woman safe in her master's stead for a time but that did not change the truth of the matter.

Stilling herself, she closed her eyes, drawing within herself, leaving behind everything and everyone. She would sleep and after she would wake refreshed. Perhaps she might even have enough strength to give another stab at conversing with her master. At the very least to offer an apology for her behaviour. She knew it was too much to hope that he'd give any sort of apology for him. A huff left her at the thought before she could catch herself. Stupid master and his stupid pride; tendrils of anger slowly crept their way back into her mind. Seras groaned at the exhausting task that was keeping herself in check when it came to Alucard and his antics. One would think thirty yeas more than enough time to build up a store of patience, yet not one week after his return they were back at each other's throats. She could only hope a worthy mission popped up soon; it wasn't good to have too much frustration repressed with nary a manner of release in sight. God, just let another insipid little worm pop its way into existence nearby so she could tear it to shreds; even that would do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now I know Seras might come across as a bit less childish than what the source material indicates, but I'm kinda going off of the fact that being without Big Red and Dangerous for thirty years would have matured her some...hopefully. Anyway, I'm hoping it came out ok.


	3. Chapter 3

"You don't think she is ready yet? How curious, and yet you offered her your blood some thirty years past." Integra did not pretend to understand Alucard. In faith, she didn't want to understand him in the least. As consequence, the fact that he had once been almost eager to set his minion free, only to have rescinded the offer should not have taken her by surprise or produced in her a moment's worry. But thirty years with Seras by her side could not be so swiftly pushed aside. In effects, she had a longer relationship with her servant's servant than she had with the vampire himself, which in turn meant her wellbeing was no longer of no consequence. "How is she not yet ready?"

"Master, surely you do not think I would keep her closely bound merely for my own amusement." She frowned at the words. She thought him capable of a great deal worse and directed that judgement at him unreservedly. A grin was her response. Integra narrowed her eyes against the beginning of a headache. "Flattery will get you nowhere. There are things to teach her still."

"I have spoken to her about it, you know?" Integra watched him arch an eyebrow. She would not be so easily deflected. "Thirty years may mean nothing to you, but rest assured both myself and Seras have felt the passage of time." She paused to bring forth a self-deprecating smile. "To varying degrees, I grant you. She is very well aware of her choices."

"Her choices?" His voice was low and cool, as though he hoped to freeze her over. Fortunately, Integra was nowhere near as shaken as she might have been. With Alucard, one had best tread lightly. Even if he did not wish to corner her from the outset, he was still a skilled deceiver and possibly twice as heartless as any devil. "And what, pray, does my police girl think her choices are?"

Disconcertingly enough, he'd done that a great deal recently, joining a particle of possession to his fledgling. Did he seek to remind himself or the world? "Do not be deliberately obtuse. She will be bound to my house or she will meet the same fate as all other monsters." It was so easy to forget the girl was one of those creatures; her bright smile and innocent mien readily brought to mind a far dearer being. All the same even the least monstrous of Midians remained a monster. "You object, servant?"

"And why should I object? She is mine; it stands to reason she will share my fate." A feral sort of grin bloomed on his face. "I am curious, though, how did she react to that little talk of yours?" Integra leaned back in her seat, lifting the cigarillo up to her lips. She took a long drag, pondering the relative ease of their conversation. She kept from poking into her servant's head; most of his emotions had been far too intense for her to handle on her best days as a young woman.

"Seras has been loyal from the very beginning. She won't need convincing, of that I can assure you. Mind me, servant; she will be bound to us one way or another." She blew out a puff of smoke, bringing the cigarillo down to the ashtray. "How long until she is ready then?"

"That would depend on her." Always answers that were not truly illuminating with Alucard. Integra wondered at times just how much entertainment he got out if it; surely it couldn't be enough to keep up at it for so long. Yet someone she was proved wrong time and again. Served her right for thinking she could have a normal conversation with the vampire. The years must have mellowed her more than she'd expected. "But not long. It should be within your lifetime, my master. Perhaps you will even bind her to your bloodline as you say."

Was the monster insinuating she might fall off her perch before she managed to go through with it? Integra chuckled. "I assure you, Alucard, I mean to see it through." She pushed no further than that, however. Instead, she handed him the file containing Thomas Farnsworth's report. "Leaving that aside for the time being, do have a look at this and tell me what you make of it." Alucard glanced through the report. It sounded fairly standard until the last few paragraphs. A neat hand had detailed the interior of a home, complete with blood splotches, a dismembered body and a missing heart of all things. "Seras is of the opinion the boy was not fed upon. The coroner concurs. Which leaves us with the question of the missing heart. Tell me, do you have knowledge of what a couple of vampires might do with a child's heart?"

"A human heart?" the vampire pondered out loud, his expression sombre for once. "There are rituals; but one heart is hardly enough for any of them. Besides, from what I can see, my Master, the organ has been incorrectly removed. If one wishes to use a heart, then it must be unblemished. This one, however, has been sliced open during removal."

"What could they possibly hope to achieve?" she questioned, leaning slightly forth. If her servant proved to be correct, and knowing him, he likely was, then this boy was only the first in a long line of victims. She had to know how to stop it; sooner rather than later, if denizens of the night were involved.

"Very little; most rituals, as is their wont, are fickle things, to be used only by the desperate. If, however, these are harvested for some creature other than a Midian," he trailed off with a shrug. "One body is hardly sufficient an argument to draw any conclusions upon." Integra nodded, understanding his position all too well. Suspicions were all good and well, but the King would authorise no move on their part unless she had solid evidence to offer. And as of that moment, she had very little indeed.

"From now on, the two of you will join forces on missions of a similar nature. It may reduce our speed to some degree, but it might be better to sacrifice that for the time being." Alucard agreed with a nod, eyes flickering over the report once more. Integra have him the time to finish whatever it was he found so interesting, but no more than that. "Well, servant?"

He had little to say to her. "If my Master has no further need of me, I shall depart." Alucard waited for no answer, sinking into the floors beneath, swallowed by a yawning blackness. The report so carefully put together by one Sergeant Farnsworth had shed some light on his childe's behaviour.

The little draculina had been plagued by the faces of the forever-departed. She had dragged him into her memories time and again by dint of undeniable pull and he would find the reason to her distress, if only to get some uninterrupted rest. And to bring the both of them some relief if naught else.

In his thirty years of absence, her voice had rung throughout his sea of nothingness, always a beacon, more so than any other, planting the seed of a most peculiar bond. Alucard had chosen the girl for her tremendous will. The same resolve had solidified itself into an iron grip on his psyche, calling him back, constant, undaunted and faithful to the last. Having been thus tethered, he could do no other but return to her the devoted care, albeit unknowing creature that she was, Seras would not make it easy on any of them. Even as his thoughts churned, the sleeping draculina dreamt of her ghosts. He did not go to her, moreso that he may later observe her and find what she understood to do, for in her he sensed little other than confused desire tugging her to and fro. And he remained, as before, awaiting a moment to respond to her.

Alucard had thought her nearness would quell the pitiless tug, at long last satisfied by her presence. It hadn't happened quite like that. Exasperating fledgling that she was, Seras seemed to think that all he could do for her was offer consolation; stand guard, perhaps, as she slumbered the uneasy sleep of unsatisfied vengeance. Too narrow was yet her vision and too meek her plans; would the day came when she became a true No-Life Queen, walking the night under her own will; though perhaps not by her lonesome self.

It would be a lie to say he was not taken aback when he understood the nature of his own plans in that regard, but neither would he deny the reality of the matter. And so, he had best find his way to Seras and see what he might glean from the unguarded mind while slumber yet held her in its grasp. She could be worked upon, for though she was stubborn, he had yet more cunning and then the advantage of experience.

The trouble with the worms crawling from the darkness was that they never required anything other than bluntness. The vampiress he's sired excelled as far as wielding force went; she crushed her foes and ripped them apart with beautiful ferocity. To her misfortune, however, she had no notion of how one confronted a foe dealing in tricks of the mind. To her even greater trouble, he was not above taking advantage of the circumstances and so once he stood before her coffin there was no hesitation in removing the lid, revealing his childe, sleeping still, unaware of the danger nearby. Foolishly trusting, as ever.

Curling around her was a moment's work, pleasurable though it might be to feel her weight settle against him. In her usual manner, Seras greeted his arrival with unwitting delight, a soft, wordless murmur marking the moment she embraced his presence. The draculina burrowed against him, hands rising to rest against his chest. As she sank into him, he glided his way into her unprotected mind, the fortress having had its gate lowered and its moats drained.

Seras he found sitting on the steps of an unfamiliar house. Glancing up at him, the young Midian frowned. "Wait, this isn't right. You weren't there, Master. What are you doing here?" She stood, gore sliding down cloth and flesh. "Seriously, this isn't that upsetting a memory and I'm here because I want to be. You, on the other hand–"

"Police girl, what did I say about that tongue of yours?" That shut her up well enough. "Never let it be said you don't learn; albeit one would appreciate a bit more haste." He climbed the steps, towering over the petite figure at his side. "Come along now, I wasn't there, as you so eloquently put it." Jolted along, she stepped into the house before him, the soles of her shoes painting bloody marks against a light-coloured carpet. He followed along, enjoying the fine tension in the air. A distinctive scent registered; Seras must have taken it in and found it wanting for as soon as he felt it, it was gone, as though his childe pushed it from her memory.

Lying on the ground was a dismembered body, much in the way it has been described. The corpse had been split in pieces, nothing missing but the heart. Though much of the skeleton had been pushed inwards, causing matters to cave in. The face had been pulverised. "Why did you want to see this, Master?" she questioned, not taking her eyes off the child.

"It is unsettling you, police girl." She gave him a look, as though that wasn't much of an answer.

"Of course it is," Seras answered. Pointing to the corpse, she continued, "this boy didn't deserve this fate. It's so unfair."

"What has fairness to do with it? Besides, this was not your only discovery, was it?" He waited for her to nod and step over the boy, making her way to a small basement. Thus it came back to her parents, he was quick to understand.

* * *

She would have liked nothing more but to wipe that smug smirk off Alucard's face. He enjoyed it, riling her up was a means of amusement. Worse yet, she played into his hand almost every time. Her heart had almost jumped out of her chest to find him inside her coffin, of all places. Twined around each other like vines, they'd woken moments apart, her ready to give him a piece of her own mind, him more than prepared to not take her seriously for as long as a moment. "You could at least have asked, Master." The arm around her waist seemed to pull her tighter into him. The cramped space enclosing them did not do her any favours either. In spite of the suggested closeness, she got the sense that such was a mere pale shadow to what true intimacy was.

"Why? Were you planning to refuse?" Said with the self-assured arrogance of a man who could not even entertain the possibility. _Now now, police girl, there is no need to take on so. I have told you before, I merely responded to your call._ Odd that; she did not recall having called out to him any way. Unless her master was trying to trick her, and she did not think that was the case, as his usual jests usually called forth a reaction of intense fright, she truly had called out to him. Which begged the question of just what she'd been doing to achieve that; she had to stop it at once. The last thing she needed was her master getting annoyed at her again about having his rest disturbed. Not that he seemed in the last bit disturbed at the moment; in fact, by the way he kept the both of them practically glued together, she would even go as far as to say he was enjoying himself.

That only spelled trouble for her. _Master, if you feel bored, then by all means, inspect the troops. Or bother Sir Integra; it's not late enough yet for her to have gone to sleep._ That earned her a hair-raising, spine-tingling chuckle. _I'll take that as a 'no', shall I?_ She twisted in his grasp, pushing on the lid of the coffin. The soft hissing sound of parting wood was the only warning before light flooded her vision. Instinctively, Seras recoiled, falling back into Alucard who caught her, she presumed out of sheer instinct.

"Miss Victoria?" The warm tone of Grant's voice penetrated the solid wall of discomfort. By the sound of it, he'd seen her master as well; not that anyone could possibly miss Alucard unless he wanted them to. A good thing no one asked questions around these parts. With a sighs and a stab of irrational fear that her master's presence in her coffin would reach Sir Integra's ear and cause trouble, she climbed out of her resting place. "I did not mean to disrupt anything."

"You aren't," she said, turning the full heat of her glare upon her master who was sitting in her coffin as though he owned the place. Seras directed her attention back to the other man, "What do you have there?"

"The requested motion pictures. The delivery ran a bit late." She had been wondering about that. Grant handed her the package, nodding at her words of gratitude. "Shall I leave all the blood packs here?" For a brief moment, confusion took over. And then, with her master's presence positioned threateningly behind her, Seras realised just what the poor man meant. They usually took their meals in her master's chamber. Not quite certain that she wished to follow through with that, Seras was just about to tell him he could take Alucard and his meal away.

"By all means, leave them." As the distress of other provided endless entertainment to the older vampire, Seras was not precisely taken aback to feel arms twine around her middle. She let out an exasperated sigh, nodding her head for Grant's benefit. The sooner he was out of her room, the sooner she could vent her spleen. And so, with minimal fuss, her desire was thoroughly accomplished with a soft scraping noise and an ensuing thudding sound. As soon as their guest had departed, his arms retreated. Seras missed the touch immediately and did not waste the opportunity to curse herself for a fool, then doubled the expletives when Alucard swiped her package with almost fiendish glee, holding it aloft when she lunged after it.

"Very mature, my Master. Whatever will you do after, tug on my hair, trip me on the stairs perhaps?" Sometimes, he seemed an overgrown child. "Give it back."

"I am merely wondering how your tastes have evolved, police girl." It was a thing of no effort to rip the paper away. Since it would be much easier on her to leave him to it, Seras decided against kicking up a fuss. She scowled at him and dropped into a chair while Alucard inspected the contents with something akin to mild curiosity. "What is this, police girl?"

"Pride and Prejudice; quintessentially British fare." She refused to believe he'd not heard of it. But then, why should he have knowledge of it? Gracious, the last thing she needed was to explain the plot to him. There was a reason she usually kept her entertainment and her master well away from each other.

"Odd; I recall your tastes being of an entirely," he paused with meaning, giving her a telling grin, "livelier bent." She blushed, understanding all too well he was referring to that time he'd caught her reading a frankly sappy, cringe-inducing romance novel, leaning rather heavily on the more mature side of love. While she wouldn't lie and say that had been the first time she'd ever read such a work, or the last, the years had worn away at her excitement for such stories. They all sounded the same, and rather trite while at it.

"I recall you telling me those would rot my brain; just take it as I listened to you, Master." He had scoffed at the time, treating her embarrassment with disdain. Granted, she didn't think he was entirely wrong about the brain-rotting effect of such novels, given what she'd seen of the outside world on her missions.

"That smart mouth of yours is sure to get you in trouble." There was no heat behind the admonishment, however, and Seras, having keen enough senses to see his shadow twisting at her feet, made good use of her own to warp behind him and out of the way.

"You'd have to catch me first," she replied teasingly. "Tag. You're it." She darted to the side, using shades and speed to evade her master's playful grab. "You'll have to do better than that." Had she a sense of self-preservation, she might have known it was never a good thing to challenge a born predator. Unfortunately for Seras, she didn't consider her actions were goading the beast. Much like an unknowing child inviting disaster, she leaped head-first into the game.

For a time, she had little trouble escaping his attempts at capture. She drew teasingly close from time to time, going as far as to reach out. Thing tendrils of blackness snapped around her, curling and twisting, tangling with her own shade as she ran to the side and then to the head of the coffin. On the advice of impulse alone she stuck out her tongue. "Looks like you're all talk, Master." Aping a disappointed mien, she ruined the effect by breaking out into a wide grin as his own neutral expression gained a wolfish cast. That was a second mistake on her part. All the same, as soon as the words left her mouth, all light was swallowed by a terrible blackness, effectively caging her with no sight of a way out.

"Are you sure about that, police girl?" Given her current position, his voice gave no indication of where he stood, but rather came from all sides, crashing into her like unrelenting waves upon a most receptive beach. Twisting as the air shifted, she barely managed to dodge a gloved hand running at her. From the low crouch she landed in, Seras pushed herself forward, navigating through the darkness. Once upon a time she might have feared the nothingness surrounding her. But no more, she jumped and ran, assured that her pursuer kept close on her heels, toying with her, from what she could tell.

She gained speed, allowing her senses to bleed out and around her, not stopping for even a moment. She didn't need it. It would be a long time before her body gave in to exhaustion. It was not long, though, before she gave in to her master's guile, his form emerging before her; so close that she didn't quite manage to swerve out of the way and crashed her full weight into Alucard. He suffered no ill effects and the loss was all hers, for as even before contact was made, she felt the thin tendrils winding up her legs.

"Stingy, Master. You could've given me more time." Her complaint was met with a dead-eyed stare. But he'd caught her and that meant he had won. "Guess I'm it now." Still, he made no move to release her, or to alleviate the shadows around them. "If you could let me go," Seras trailed off, cocking her head to the side. Alucard didn't seem to be all there.

"Enough games, police girl." The shadows retreated. The brightness of artificial light came back, causing her to flinch. "Master is calling."

Pouting, she hurriedly hid her disappointment. The No-Life King disappeared before she could say anything else. But when she glanced to her desk, she saw her precious entertainment was safe. "No sense in wasting time." But really, Sir Integra had the worst timing sometimes. She glanced up at the ceiling, concentrating on transporting herself through the distance between her room and the other woman's office.

The knight was busily puffing on her cigarillo, glaring at her servant with an unholy gleam. Seras had to wonder what her master had done to annoy Sir Integra yet again. She didn't get a chance to ask before a file was pushed into her hands as Grant moved into view, his soft, apologetic smile indicating his feelings all too clearly. While Seras might have thought it had to do with her interrupted evening, she was quickly corrected as soon as her eyes took in the few lines outlining the main focus of the mission.

It was one of those outings; she would've rather fought an army of ghouls empty-handed. Pushing aside her distaste, Seras squared her shoulders. "Sir, if I may be so bold, why exactly should I not approach the target? Even if he has some knowledge of vampires, I don't believe he would be able to readily detect it in me."

"Unfortunately, in spite of our best efforts, the man has grown suspicious of the surveillance. It would be best to send in new faces and I am told there is a number of vampires loitering about, at least two. Sending in human operatives is asking for trouble, but so is acting too fast. For now, keep an eye open. As for you," the woman continued, her gaze sliding to Alucard, "there is another location–"

"Would it not be better to join up with the police girl? If you are uncertain of the number of vampires." Seras for her part had a hard time believing her master was the least bit worried for her well-being. But Sir Integra seemed only too happy to give in, though she did not hesitate to pull her gun on the pestering Midian when he suggested she order Seras into a more appropriate outfit. Her master's only response was to laugh as the gunshots rang out.

"Your mission begins tomorrow night. I expect you to keep a low profile and not bring me trouble." Understandable demands, but hardly anything she had to hear. It was more Alucard than her who tended to court notoriety. Why, she was perfectly capable of being inconspicuous.

 _Police girl, surely you cannot mean that._ He continued that particular thought by pointing out he'd chosen her. Seras shook her head.

* * *

She was in a world of trouble. Gulping down her unease, Seras gave in to the command and looked into the other Midian's face, even if all her senses advised her to tuck her tail between her legs and take off for the hills.

Hypnotic, vibrant red held her in thrall. She felt her lips part gently, as though in preparation of speech. But she had no words, her mind was drawing a blank and not because her master was using his rather persuasive seduction skills on her. Seras knew the pull of his seduction, albeit it had never quite been directed her way. On the one hand, she'd always known he was handsome. Even in that God forsaken church, when he'd been shooting a bullet through her, underneath the panic and sheer terror, she'd been able to recognise his charm easily enough. On the other hand, she was well aware she ought to guard her heart against him. Suave, smooth-talking, bewitching creature that he was, he'd eat her whole, devour her in a far more dangerous way than merely feasting on her blood. In spite of such pertinent, tempering thoughts to bank her undeniable attraction to the man, she still found herself standing stupidly as his face neared hers. They weren't breathing; they didn't need it. His lips hovered above hers, one pleasantly cool, long-fingered hand cupping her cheek; a mere hairsbreadth parted them.

The whole world had narrowed to only them, her and him. The sturdy wall behind Seras was the only reminder of reality in that moment. She couldn't hear the loud music of the club, she couldn't see the piercing lights flashing from time to time, though she was certain if she concentrated she would note their haloing effect on Alucard; she couldn't even make out their target any longer, though his current location abovestairs should have made that easy enough. But she could see her master. She could see the dark tendrils of hair running down one side of his face like unruly streams of murky water. She could see one ruby-red eye, pinning her in place. She could see the self-assured smile, with its customary cruel edge, tugging at those firm, pale lips she sometimes allowed herself to wonder about. What would it feel like if he removed all distance between them and took her mouth with his?

It wouldn't be her first kiss. But then the slide of Pip's lips on hers as she was crying out his name, blind and despairing, the thick scent of his blood in her nose, had shocked her more than anything. The furtive dart of his tongue against her razor sharp teeth had worked to add a coppery taste to the whole mesh of flesh. It was nothing like what she'd ever envisioned a kiss to be like. It hadn't been so much a kiss as it had been a goodbye. All the same, Pip had been the first man to give her such an experience. Looking back, she didn't know what to think of it. Tinged with grating ire and spearing terror, she looked back upon their lip-lock with a shudder and a great deal of regret. She wished she'd been able to discern his interest sooner, if only to settle matters between them in proper fashion. He deserved to know that she had never looked to him as a lover. Never even considered the matter seriously.

Something very much like electricity bolted up her spine, effectively pulling Seras from her memories, Frowning at her master, she bit back a sigh. He'd been distracting her in order to peek at her thoughts. Before she could say anything to that, his mouth sealed up against hers. It started as a simple brush of lips, as though he meant to satisfy her curiosity. For what seemed like an eternity, Alucard kept a steady, soft pressure, the tilt of his head permitting such a feat. Seras, having stiffened in his grasp, couldn't quite believe what was happening. One of her hands came to rest against his chest, just above where his heart ought to be, if he even had one. Her master could be so very vexing. Just because she expressed a passing curiosity didn't mean he had to offer an answer. Especially considering the nature of it all. She hoped he heard that while he was knocking about in her head.

A soft chuckle rasped against her lips. She felt his conscience bearing down upon her, willing her cooperating, inviting her along. Alucard often saw fit to read her thoughts. He rarely returned the favour. If she were a smidgeon more clear-headed, Seras might have told him that the middle of a mission was probably not the best place to proceed with such endeavours. As matters stood, however, she could only allow herself to be drawn in, reaching out to him, somewhat aware that anyone looking their way would mistake them for a pair of randy lovers.

She fell into a pool of feelings without clear description. If her own mind was somewhat organised by such markers as time and space, her master's head contained a labyrinth; a maze without a clear centre and she seemed to have fallen straight into its trap. Ever so slowly, crawling from within the shapeless dark around her, a thin thread wrapped itself about her person, snaking its way around her ankle, tethering her, as if in preparation. Emotions not her own hit her, intense and deep, powerful enough to see her lost at sea. Sharp needle-thin teeth sank into her with unmistakable hunger, ripping at her flesh, burrowing their way beneath her skin, filling her with a foreign sensation. To feel so strongly and yet exhibit no signs of it; Seras was once more in awe of her master.

Once the unidentified sentiment was focused under her scrutiny, she managed to catch a glimpse of something very like longing, but smoother. One only longed for something one did not have. Her master lacked no such assurance of ownership. Like a whip, it flayed against her, its mark proclaiming the truth for all to hear. The undertones of affectionate care, however, softened the sting of the brand, dulling the ache into a honey-sweet compliment. She was his, but it was not the possession of objects being exercised upon her. She'd not been placed then or at any other point on equal footing with her master's belongings. It was a manner of custody, nevertheless, yet less irksomely cutting. It embraced her in warmth and comfort rather than suffocate her like the vines of a clinging obsession.

Belonging; that was the world she was searching for. Less bitter than its counterpart, holding something of almost human touch to it; Seras was struck by the thorns of its unbreakable stem. One assumed such bonds to come about in time, forged and nurtured by interactions spanning years and situations. It wasn't the case for them. A childe of the night such as herself was, indeed, servant to their master; yet was not mere servant. That she'd not understood, not until that fateful, eye-opening moment. And to think she was blind to the truth. Her only consolation was that she'd managed to understand herself at long last on that particular point. Belonging was something she'd not felt in an awfully long while. Not since her parent's demise, she didn't think.

The darkness reared back, as though seared by her realisation; as if she'd lit a match in the middle of the blackness, it dissipated. Pressure eased. Lips glanced off of hers. The world bled back into her sight and hearing. Colours of all sorts splashed across her vision, drowning out the beautiful red of before. An odd, too-fast rhythm much at odds with her own flow broke the tranquil sensation which had settled over her. She had returned to reality and it wasted no time making her aware of her current position. It felt like a thousand years had passed. Slowly, she came out of the daze.

 _The target,_ she directed towards her master, unwilling to break the silence between them lest she blurted out some truth she herself hadn't come to grips with yet. Dragging her eyes away from her master's face, she glanced at the gallery above. _Where is he?_ Panic welled up inside of her, threatening to upset her balance. Her fingers curled into cloth and flesh. Her gaze slipped. One hand on her master's chest, the other pinned to the wall by one of his; she was anchored to him, as she'd been from the beginning. Her grip relaxed, his persisted. _We have to find him, Master._

 _Police girl, you never learn, do you?_ She blinked, more out of habit than need. She shouldn't have been surprised; her master always landed on his feet, as it were. Of course he'd have returned to himself long before her, his sharp senses ever aware. No others of their kind yet then; master would have surely made some snide remark about her abilities had she overlooked the danger.

 _But I do learn_ , she contradicted, pulling her hand from his chest. _I doubt you'd have kept me with you otherwise, Master._ She knew him well enough, at least, to know that much. Seras tugged her other hand free of his and moved around him, searching for their target. _Found him._

They had only to observe, as happened during all beginning stages of such missions. Seras bit back a frown, reaching out for her drink. This sort of missions she despised the most. When other vampires were involved, she couldn't simply walk up to the target and seduce the information out of them. Thirty years ago it might have worked, but then the world hadn't been so very aware of their kind; knowledge of their skill had been obscured by myth and old wives' tales. Yet after that disastrous battle of epic proportions, the world could no longer remain blind. More than ever, given the circumstances, did Sir Integra insist they keep well away from the public eye. That meant missions such as hers would have to be carried out the old-fashioned way, meticulous and slow, with as little use of her powers as possible.

Weight settled on her shoulders. "I don't think they'll be coming; too close to dawn now." She leaned into Alucard to complete the fabricated, lover-like closeness. He made no sort of reply, but she felt his hip press into hers firmly. If he wanted to work on that, she'd let him. It was her mission after all; he'd only insisted to come along for some unknown reason of his, possibly in order to stave off boredom. Since Sir Integra had been most cross with him for bothering the soldiers and had insisted he leave them be, that only left her master with Seras as means of entertainment.

And in truth, he'd not disrupted her mission. If she had company, it merely meant the patrons of the establishment did not approach her. In the past, such outings had resulted in more than one proposition levied her way. But then that was nothing new; even when alive, men had looked, and some braver souls had even approached. With Alucard's arm proprietarily around her, though, she needn't go through the rather awkward dance of finding some excuse or another to distance herself. Rejections did not come easy to her; she hated the looks of disappointment and the undertones of pain, even knowing what she was doing was for the best.

Their target was speaking to a woman, a buxom redhead whose endowments put even Seras to shame. Cor, but the look was very near grotesque. He leaned in, ear near her mouth as she spoke, nodding along. Even with enhanced hearing, given the noise all around them, she couldn't make out what was being said. She thought she understood a word o two by reading the woman's lips, but given their generous proportions, she wasn't exactly willing to bet her life on it. "Blimey," she muttered when realising the man's eyes had fallen to the woman's partially exposed chest. No wonder he was nodding foolishly along. He wasn't hearing a thing, was he? Amusement swamped her. "She could stab him right here and now and he wouldn't even notice. Oh look, they're coming down." True enough, the target and his heavily-curved companion were making their way out of the abovestairs gallery and down towards one of the exits."That's our cue. Let's get out of here."

She wanted her coffin and a long rest. Perhaps she would even have enough energy for an actual shower. While not strictly necessary, as the shadows were more than capable of removing any impurity from her, Seras still liked the rush of warm water gushing over her skin from time to time. It was a lot like a hug, all-encompassing and wonderfully warm. A treat after a particularly draining mission, something to lift her mood a tad. She made to stand, only to realise her master was still holding firm, which in turn kept her from making any sort of progress. _Master?_

 _Distracted again, are we?_ She scoffed, eyeing him with something akin to annoyance. Only he wasn't looking at her. Instead his attention was fixed to a man on the other side of the room. Seras perked up; she'd seen him with their target. An associate, as far as she could tell. _Seems he has eyes only for you, my dear._ Holding back on the frown threatening to break through her masked of assumed indifference, she deliberately put a hand on her master's shoulder, fingers curling inward. He obliged by looking at her.

 _Then we've not wasted our time._ She had even adopted a ridiculous getup for the whole affair. While her uniform boasted a rather short skirt, perhaps some jest Sir Integra had never deigned to share with her, Seras did not, generally, enjoy displaying herself. Ghouls and vampires rarely seized her up in a blatantly sexual fashion, however, thus she'd endured with the knowledge that her enemies simply did not care one way or the other. It was another feeling altogether to be watched with lust. She didn't like it. Standing to her feet, she resisted the urge to tug on the lower hem of her dress. She coyly shot the bloke across the room a glance, careful to linger on him before turning on her heel, knowing her master could see to his own departure just as well as she could.

Seras had no desire to allow the sun to catch a glimpse of her on the street. In her current state, the light would only create a world of discomfort for her. Before she could take more than a couple of steps, a steadying hand fell to the small of her back. The familiar touch urged her to relax. She looked up at her master, the distance between them diminished by her heels. She still came just up to his shoulder though.

Outside, the streets was seemingly abandoned. The streetlights shone neither in brilliant fashion, nor softly. It was something in between. It would have been none too bright for the human eye. For herself, Seras closed her eyes in order to deflect the glow. She stepped forward with the confidence that necessarily accompanied her in Alucard's presence. Since she'd known steps awaited her, Seras negotiated carefully down as her eyes opened. The last thing she needed was to fall flat on her arse. She didn't know which would burn worse, the humiliation of such a situation or the fact her master would likely find a great deal of amusement in such an incident.

Taking hold of his arm, Seras leaned into Alucard. "Just a moment, Master," she whispered, wincing at the pain shooting up her heel. Blasted high-heeled shoes; she knew she should've worn those things more frequently. If nothing else, they would make great torture devices. She ought to suggest as much to Sir Integra. Index finger under her chin, it only took a small amount of pressure to move her head. Once more she was caught in the spider's web that was her master's gaze. "This is most unfair," she complained, keeping her voice low.

"Is it?" He was having a bit too much fun. Seras shot him a look and straightened, allowing him to lead her along. They rounded a corner leading into a small narrow street. On one end a tall building made quite the roadblock, while the other end opened into a small passageway. Her master took the way of the aisle. Anyone who'd seen them would assume they went there either to relieve some of the night's tension or that they meant to go down to the subway. At that time of night, there was not a soul around. It was the perfect spot from which to shed their human form and make their way home.

Only that wasn't quite what happened. Before she could even think to morph her limbs, a stab of pain knifed along her ribs and the side of her face met the brick of the walls surrounding them. "Oi, what's the big idea?" she muttered crossly.

"Hush now." _We're being followed_. He crowded her, the words losing their way in her unpinned hair. Seras turned in his hold, guessing well enough his aim. Sir Integra had been clear in her instructions and if one dead body popped up on what was supposed to be strictly recognisance, both her and Master would be in big trouble. Her senses expanded; she found the intruder soon enough, just as her hand circled the older Midian's neck, tugging him towards her. It might have been better to grab a cab. Why hadn't she suggested that? They fit well enough together come to think of it, Seras mused as she felt their little peeping Tom retreat. For a brief moment she'd been worried. Alucard moved his head down, holding her steady. She tried not to flinch when she felt herself being lifted just as his face hid in the crook of her neck. She supposed it would look convincing enough even if he wasn't doing a thing to her. _He's leaving, Master._ She expected him to release her. It took some effort to convince herself she wanted to be released, that whatever bound them together in that moment was too close to surface, that it might force her into admitting what she had no wish to put out in the open.

Frankly, Seras suspected her master was only too aware of the signals, great and small, that her body sent his way. Goodness gracious, the man had lived hundreds of years; it was child's play to him. His conquests, as it were, were legion. She refused to even entertain the possibility that he was blind to her reactions. Any other man, she might have held in enough doubt for a flicker of uncertainty, but not him. Yet the song of flesh was easily clacked up to lust, momentary desire, circumstances even. The old scar he'd pierced into her tingled. Seras stiffened, feeling elongated fangs scrape against the thin layer of healed tissue.

Vampires rarely scarred. Seras herself had no map of battles upon the expanse of her body. If she was cut, the flesh knit itself back together, if limbs fell off, other took their place. The only blemishes she'd retained were those she'd had in life. The bullet wound and subsequent surgery, master's fangs striking; that was all she had. All she would ever have if her luck held. All the same, the danger of a predator such as Alucard hovering over her caused her muscles to tense and bunch as if she planned to leap and make a run for it. Only, she wouldn't escape; not if he truly planned to capture her. Besides, master was only pushing her buttons as much as he could within the confines of their mission. He'd grow bored just as long as she didn't make it too entertaining for him. That helped her relax. For all of a brief moment, that was, until the other vampire nudged into her, pressing Seras deeper into the wall. It was just the two of them, the charade had gone on long enough. _He's gone now. You can let go._

 _Has it occurred to you, police girl, that I may not want to let go?_ She gasped as the words finally registered, pushing at him with enough force that he had to retreat a step. _You gave the impression that this was what you wanted._ The low rumble of his voice beset her mind. The leech, he knew very well what he was doing. He still held her aloft, though she half-feared she'd crash to the ground soon enough.

"I'm not talking about this with you." The sound of her voice rang out in the lonely corridor. She sounded overloud. Expecting that she'd incurred his ire, Seras shifted her gaze to the side. Avoidance would buy her time at least. "So no pestering me with questions, Master, or I'll appeal to Sir Integra."

"Hiding behind my master, police girl? That is beneath you. Just because you run from the truth doesn't mean it won't catch up in the end." Mutinously, she refused to give him any manner of answer. Master would have to learn sooner or later that things wouldn't always go his way. "That is a lesson well learned." She snapped to attention as his words filtered through her ears. She really needed to keep better track of her shields. Too much slipping and master would have the freedom to trespass whenever he so chose. And that she would not stand for.

"It bears repeating then. Now, my Master, I am going home. And you may do as you please." Turning from him, she called to mind the familiar form of a winged rodent. Batman had nothing on her. She flapped her wings with care, waiting until she detected a familiar chittering in spite of her earlier outburst. From there it was all too easy to find their way back to the manor. In the guise of a bat, the world was altogether different. She'd pondered the fact when she had first managed to unlock the trick to morphing into such a being. It remained entirely transfixing nevertheless, the feeling of wings beating on air, the weight of her body lifting and riding currents, the way she world sounded and smelled, much sharper than before. When Seras was a bat, she did not merely take on the flesh and fur, she became, in essence, something other than herself. And the change was met with glee.

Once at long last the gates of the estate came into view, Seras paused, hovering in place. While assuming a beastly guise was easy enough, returning to the skin of a human took her a great deal of concentration. She closed her eyes and forced her mind to empty of all. In the void, she called to her an image of herself. Pain shot through her limbs as bones grew in width and length, organs became heavier, her body expanded. This was her least favourite part, Seras thought as her feet touched the ground, a wave of nausea overtaking her. Without compunction, she knelt down, bowing her head. If master as much as muttered some snide comment, she would give him what for.

"Impressive, police girl; but slow. In the time it took you to go through the whole transformation, an enemy would have been upon you, perhaps even delivering a finishing blow." She bit her lower lip to keep from reacting. It wasn't a jab, but more so a well-deserved critique. He was still her mentor. She could quibble about silly things, but that was not one of them.

Climbing to her feet, she forced a deep breath, sucking in air before pushing it out. "I've tried. No matter how do it, it remains slow." He grinned, pointed fangs unveiled. Seras shivered.

"You didn't expect me to give everything away, did you?" It made sense he hadn't. Seras found the journals Sir Integra had allowed her to pursue interesting enough. Bygone masters of her master had filled in pages upon pages on the nature of vampires. Some of it was a personal history of her master as well; though it was rare enough to find such nuggets of knowledge. "Human need only know so much."

"I'm sure Sir Integra would disagree," she answered lightly, stepping one foot in front of the other. The slight unevenness in the road grated unpleasantly against her yet unsettled stomach. But she would rather not have one of the soldiers shooting at her again because she'd frightened the wits out of him. Much as the bullets might not cause permanent damage, they did hurt. She was not fond of suffering pain.

Her master's presence, never far from her, steadied the world, anchoring all to him, as if he had his own magnetic field; a force which more than attracted all in nearness. "She does as a matter of fact. But that is no concern of mine." She'd expected that; her master was a prideful creature. Even bound, he was not truly a mere servant. "You will learn, in time, how to best go about such things." Seras gave a shallow nod, wondering if he would take the time to actually teach her.

Granted, the time they'd spent together in the beginning, she'd found him cold and lacking in understanding. What he said, he said in mocking tones and when praise was delivered it was always mitigated by some manner of censure. Time had twisted her hand into recognising, nonetheless, that her master had taught her a great deal, even if she would have preferred a more familiar approach. Her thoughts drifted once more. This time, however, she made certain her shield would not be easily penetrated. They were nearing the stairs and would part soon enough. No more danger then; not so close to daybreak.

She would have a report to fill in, undoubtedly. But that could wait until she managed a few hours of sleep and perhaps a pack of blood or two. She was feeling rather peckish. Hopefully Grant had foreseen that much. He was getting better and better at it. So far, she'd only had to summon him once in the past week. Unwittingly, she quickened her pace.

The soldiers on duty greeted their arrival with no more interest than on any other day, although Alucard did manage to produce a spike in their fear with his maniacal laughter when one of them dared to remark on the fairness of the night. Seras heroically held back from rolling her eyes, smiling at the man and agreeing that the night had been a good one. No need to alarm anyone with suggestions of otherwise, or Sir Integra would be called down and that woman was not a particularly cheery morning person, let alone a four in the morning person. In fact she needed all the rest that she could get, if her physician were to be believed.

The two of them made their way to the basement. "Sleep well, Master," Seras said just before a yawn overtook her. She sighed and wondered whether she would have to reconsider that shower. She phased through the door, not wasting anymore time with opening it. Thankfully, Grant had more than foreseen her need for sustenance. A blood pack had been left to chill in a small bucket just near her coffin. The darling man must have assumed she'd snack on it and head for bed. Seras happily allowed the shadows to disrobe her, noting that Pip seemed to have sunk deeper into the blackness. She could barely make him out when she glanced inward. But then that could just be her weariness. Fatigue ever so rarely helped with these things.

She padded her way to the bathroom, eyeing the shower with an intense look of gratitude. It was a small indulgence Sir Integra had allowed her. For good behaviour, she'd said; but Seras knew that no matter what the woman claimed, she'd done it for decency's sake. Stepping into the shower, she drew back the sliding door and turned on the water. Within moment her body heated up pleasantly. Reaching for the bath sponge, she allowed herself a soft groan of contentment. With her free hand, she sought out the body wash, inhaling the subtle scent as soon as the cap came off. Peonies were lovely plants; she regretted nothing could thrive in her room, or she would have brought one or two plants. As it stood, she had to make do with the body wash instead.

Her mother had loved peonies as well. Seras could still recall it was the print of her favourite floral dress. It was a way to keep close to the woman. No matter her horrific end and the images that had left seared into her brain, Seras still held some good memories close to heart. One day she might even be able to look back upon her parents and not experience a moment of crushing bleakness. Although she rather thought that was a long way off. Perhaps she'd have to wait until she was as old as her master. Hundreds of years, by God; she was an everlasting vampire and she could barely imagine it. In a few hundred years what would be left of this room of hers, of the Hellsing organisation, of the lot of them? She could not help but wonder.

She supposed it didn't affect her overmuch. She would still be Seras, forever nineteen in looks. And yet very different within, she did not doubt. Scowling softly, she looked down at her stomach as she lathered herself. "All this hunger will make a philosopher of me yet. And worse still, one with musings the value of a dime." She washed herself thoroughly before stepping out of the shower.

Grabbing hold of a clean towel, she dried herself off, calling forth the shadows to dress her for sleep. She'd get some of the padding in her coffin wet with her hair if she didn't dry it, but by the time Seras had her fangs into her light snack, she was more than aware that her body would force her to rest if she didn't acquiesce by her own accord.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well....it's something, that's for sure. I hope no one was scarred for life.
> 
> Happy Halloween!


	4. Chapter 4

Seras sat up, blinking the fog away from her vision. She muffled a yawn with the back of her hand, fingers wiggling so as to better get a feeling back into them. She would’ve done better to sleep with her hands out of her head’s way. Glancing towards the clock, she gave a soft sigh as the digits blinked back at her. Not yet dusk. She stretched out and stood, stepping onto the soft carpet. Allowing herself to reach out, she was pleaded to encounter the familiar swell of her master’s power. He was probably sleeping still. Sir Integra had once more grown used to his presence and as such, it was often enough that she called upon him with some matter or another. Negotiating her way lazily across the expanse between herself and the desk, Seras noted a few files had been placed near the small lamp she used for reading. Basements made for cosy enough living quarters, what with the darkness and unrelenting silence, but as for studying files, she would have preferred an office like Sir Integra’s, with a great chair and a fireplace. Not that it affected her one way or another, Seras considered with a grimace, rubbing at one eye, while her other hand pulled back the simple wooden affair she sat upon. Shaking the thought loose from her head, she turned on the lamp and opened the first folder.

A small smile graced her lips as she noted Farnsworth’s neat hand employed in summarising the information therein. It looked like the female operatives sent in to scout had managed to find some worthwhile additions to the little they already knew. Seras looked to the list of names, noting that Alice McKinnon, Margaret Ludlow and Eliza Preston had made up the body of the team. There appeared to be no set schedule for the vampires, although their arrival was always anticipated, with women brought specifically to serve in the capacity of feeding sources. Alice had donated blood, as she’d been selected, by which way it became apparent that these troublemakers, at least, were more intelligent than the average filth thinking to take on the mantle of vampire. A further list provided names of other donors, most of whom were female escorts. “Money is money,” Seras said softly. Some of them were even likely to find selling their blood the more dignified option all things considered.

They couldn’t be looking to build an army of ghouls then, that much seemed to be indicated by the preliminary findings. Nibbling on her lower lip, Seras reached for her own notebook, jotting down a tiny detail which caught her attention. Of the names donors, one was a confirmed death. Remarkably enough, she’d been killed in an explosion caused by a gas leak. Could it be that someone had wanted to hide something Josephine Cooper’s body might have proclaimed? Unlikely; gas leaks were rarer and rarer but they still happened. She would have to ask Sir Integra to get her the police file on the case. For the time being, however, she found purpose in taking in the conclusions laid out before her, poor though they might be.

The second folder was her own report, it’s compliance with the set standards signed and dated. She stared at it for a moment, somewhat curious as to how detailed her master had been in his report. She’d not compared notes with him, but since Sir Integra had no complaints, she expected there were no substantial differences to be found. The memory of that kiss settled on her most uncomfortably. Seras brought a couple of fingers up to her lips, pressing down ever so gently. It had been incredible, loathe as she was to admit it; a skilful twist on a far more innocent gesture. There had been nothing of the tripe often contained in trashy romance novels. It hadn’t felt like fantasy. It had felt all too real. To think he had used it to lure her into stillness just so he could dig around in her head. That was so very like Alucard that she hadn’t even thought to be angry with him afterwards. She wouldn’t have been angry whatever the case. Pathetic as she knew it to be, she couldn’t help but feel fulfilled by the kiss. If it was the only spark of interest she’d ever manage to ignite in him, then she meant to cherish it. Forever.

But maudlin thoughts were best kept away from her master’s vicinity. Since she had time enough before she was meant to set off on another night of too-loud music, disgusting, alcohol-fuelled writhing so often mistaken for dancing and flirtations about as subtle as a sledgehammer to the head, Seras meant to spend that portion of her freedom on something the exact opposite of the torture awaiting her.

She changed out of her nightdress, folding it neatly and placing it into the coffin, before coaxing the shadows into materialising some plain clothing on her body. Moving away from desk as soon as she decided the third file could wait a bit longer, Seras picked up her comb and dragged it absently through her tresses, wincing as she caught a couple of knots. But in the end she braved the pain, reminding herself that she’d endured far worse. Not that it helped with the annoyance factor, albeit she counted herself lucky no one was there to see her reactions. Freed from the unkind though of her comb at long last, she phased her way to the steps of the building, appearing next to a rather jumpy Private Perkins. He cried out in surprise as soon as he beheld her, jumping back a few paces.

“Mum, you scared the pi–err, the living daylights out of me,” he said by manner of greeting, holding his hand up in proper salute as he spoke. He coughed uncomfortably as she held his stare. Seras toyed with the idea of teasing him a bit, but decided she didn’t like how similar it made her to a certain other Midian.

“You should always be ready for trouble, Private.” The words were deliberately soft on her lips. She didn’t want to alarm him, after all. “I will walk the grounds for a bit.” A jerky nod met her claim. No sooner than she’d stepped one foot forth, though, the man suddenly spoke.

“But the sun!” Turning her head so she would better face him, Seras gave Perkins a patient look. “It’s still up, mum.” He nodded towards the diffuse orange glow of the dipping star. The light bled onto the third step and down the winding path, setting pebbles on fire.

“It won’t melt me.” A strong sun was most uncomfortable to deal with, but even during high noon, Seras had survived brushes with her natural nemesis. Besides, the evening shine with its blushing hues was a herald of the darkness to come. She’d found it was safe enough to bask in it so long as she didn’t forget herself and step out too soon. And even then, her skin would merely redden and smart, but heal soon enough with a pack of blood to help it along. Seras stepped gingerly down, lips curling in a pleased smile when the weak light tickled along her toes. Before long she was standing fully into the light, hands rising to push her hair back, as though she meant to take in the shower of glow. Movement behind her indicated that Perkins had moved too. “How about a walk, Private?”

A door opened. “I believe he is not supposed to move from his post. But I will walk with you, ma’am, if you will permit.” Grinning at the firm note she detected in Farnsworth’s voice, for it was he who’d spoken, Seras nodded her head, waiting until the man stood next to her.

“I’d be more than happy to walk with you, Sergeant.” They started down the path together. “But weren’t you going home just now?” Hellsing had ensured that most soliders were provided with living quarters nearby, so as to cut down on transport costs and such. Sergeant Farnsworth, however, lived a little ways away from the estate, she knew. Still, he made the drive each and every day as was needed, while refusing to relocate closer to headquarters.

“Not really.” A wealth of meaning rained down upon her. Seras felt the air shift around the, thick with unspoken words. She kept her pace though, unwilling to acknowledge anything that would challenge the long established camaraderie between them. “An empty house isn’t exactly the most wonderful thing to return to.”

“I’m so sorry, Thomas. Hester was a wonderful woman.” And dead well before her time; those words she did not say. Cancer was a cruel thing, Seras considered, scrambling for something that would lead the conversation away from the death of his spouse. “Isn’t your daughter home, though? I thought you said she decided to transfer to the local college.”

“Marie’s moved in with her boyfriend. She said I’m hardly ever home and she can’t take the silence.” Seras winced. So he truly was alone.

For a space, they walked with only the rustling of wind through the leaves between them. Seras hesitated broaching such a sensitive subject with the man, yet if she didn’t, she’d regret it. An eternity of regrets did not make for comfortable living. With her master at least there was always time. With people like Thomas, however, she could either act or wallow in regrets after. “Thomas,” she said, deliberately using his Christian name, “have you considered seeing someone again? It’s been two years. She wouldn’t want you to be alone, you know.” Hester had had a wonderfully big heart. And she’d loved Thomas, as Seras well could see whenever Sir Integra threw some party or another for the soldiers and the man brought his wife along. She would never begrudge Thomas his comforts.

“You already know how I feel about that.” The curt answer cut her own musings short. Sergeant Farnsworth was looking at her with intent. A curl of something unpleasant in her stomach warned her away. “My feelings haven’t changed on the subject.”

“You flatter me.” And he scared her at the same time. How could he possibly wish to be with someone like her, a monster for all intents and purposes. Even knowing she drank human blood, even knowing she would outlive him and could never give him the normal comforts of a relationship, he still wanted her. Seras was part awed and part repelled. “But my response has to be the same as well. There is nothing I can really offer.”

She studied him as he was standing there. A full head of hair had gone silver the previous decade, to the amusement of their colleagues, but as for balding, there’s wasn’t even a hint of it. Cut short, his hair was straight, but she knew from previous stiles he’d worn that it curled gently when the length permitted. A pair of serious green eyes stared at her from within a fine face. He was, perhaps, closer to the standard of masculine beauty than any other man she’d known. Not to mention that when he did deign to smile, she swore she could hear hearts thumping twice as loudly in the chests of female Hellsing employees. He was tall, but not as tall as her master, his body muscled from the rigorous training underwent. Throughout his career, he’d been hardworking, tough but fair and impeccable as a friend. In essence, he was what one might consider a good catch.

But somehow, Seras had not once considered him for a potential lover either. At first she’d thought it was because of Pip and his unfortunate fate. She had refused him when he’d confessed to her, a year or so after he had come to work for Sir Integra. Where Seras had expected awkwardness after, Thomas had been calm, kind and unexpectedly professional. Unrelentingly so, some might say. She had been thankful then and even more so when he came back one day with a ring on his finger and a satisfied air about his person. She had assumed whatever feelings he’d had for her were gone. Whatever could have prompted their return?

“Is it because he returned?” Seras blinked uncertainly at the question, her mind taking far too long to understand what exactly was being asked. How could she possibly explain that the master-childe bond was well beyond human comprehension, that while she was compelled by it to follow Alucard to the end of the world if need be, his claim was not of a nature to interfere with the making of any romance, but that she had somehow landed herself in the position of holding onto an unrequited love. Or rather an unacknowledged love; after all, her master had not outright rejected her. She hadn’t given him the tiniest chance on that score. Hadn’t Alucard told her to be careful with humans? She shook her head and bit back a heavy sigh. “I’ll not bring this up again then, ma’am. But I wanted to know.”

“I have to say, you’re taking this very well.” On the chin, as it were. Still, Seras hadn’t expected a different sort of response from him. The rosy glitter of the setting sun set fire to their surroundings with dying flares. “As for the other, I can only answer that there is nothing to say.” She would certainly not explain herself to the man. He didn’t have any right to question her in that fashion. “Go home, Sergeant and rest. Hellsing will be waiting for your return.” She dismissed him with an easy salute, watching as he followed her instructions.

Her choice was the correct one. Perhaps she ought to discuss the matter with Sir Integra. The woman was as canny as they came, but more than that, she would know whether a temporary separation was best between the teams. She could take along another group for mundane missions. If nothing else it might show the new recruits how they were expected to work alongside her or her master if it came to that. She moved off the path towards a more remote corner of the gardens, idly walking by bushes of varying shapes and sizes. She might have to head back soon; see if her master wanted to have their evening meal together before she headed out.

Perking up at the thought, she stretched out her senses for a perfunctory sweep of the grounds, expecting to find nothing out of order before she made her way back inside and relegated the earlier episode with Thomas to the void of memories cast aside for their utter uselessness. She almost didn’t catch the disturbance.

It was faint. Seras concentrated harder on the pulse she felt coming from somewhere at the periphery of the grounds. Pip stirred within her, a soft warning shooting child down her spine. It wasn’t the same feeling as the one heralding her master’s approach. Not the least. While Alucard caused fine shivers within her, the anomaly she could feel close by carried none of the warmth quick to follow in the case of the other vampire. Instead, her stomach churned unpleasantly. She had to go see what it was. And so she would. Seras allowed the shades to gather around her and sweep her away, towards the danger. Once done, she found herself standing next to one of the fences surrounding the property. Near the front gate of all places. A grimace bloomed upon her face as she knelt and concentrated on the negative aura. It took a moment too long to realise whatever it was has been buried shallowly, as far as the small rise of dirt indicated on the outside of the fence. Disintegrating and reappearing on the outer side of the fence, Seras knelt, working with care to uncover what it was the loam hid.

A startled sound caught in her throat. She almost didn’t dare pick it up. In fact she couldn’t pick it up if she wanted to. It might disturb the rune carved in the otherwise healthy-looking organ. Two sets of footsteps from somewhere to the left indicated that guards had taken notice of her activities. 

“Mum?” Private Spencer, by voice, had his hand on her arm before she could blink. To her credit, she didn’t jump. Seras wondered just what sort of picture she’d painted for the man, sitting there in the dirt, her fingers dusty with earth and blood. “Are you well?”

“Dandy, Private, just dandy.” She answered. ”Don’t let anyone pick this up yet. Watch the CC TV and see if you can find who did this.” She nodded to the severed heart in the ground. Seras had the sinking feeling that they wouldn’t find anything on the security footage. The guards had a clear view of the spot. If they hadn’t seen who did it, there had probably been nothing to see to begin with. “Tell them to be very careful around this thing if they do approach. I will alert Sir Integra in the meantime.”

“Aye, aye, mum,” Spencer saluted, offering her a hand up. She took it and lifted herself off the ground. With nary a word more she directed her attention to reaching Sir Integra. Stopping just outside the wood door, she knocked carefully, relieved to hear the woman’s voice calling her in.

Sir Integra was sitting at her desk, a neat stack of files at her side. She directed a severe glance towards Seras, as though questioning her presence. “A bit early to be up, but good evening nevertheless.”

“Good evening, Sir.” It was starting to look more and more like night outside, the gathering darkness chasing the slowly dying light away. “I made a discovery near the gate, along one of the fences. Someone had dropped off a gift, it would seem. A heart; the blood smelled human. It has a rune carved in it. Requesting permission to consult with my Master on the matter.”

“Is it dangerous, do you think?” It had to be. At least it had to mean a dangerous individual was lurking around. Seras pursed her lips in silent anticipation. “Too dangerous to be brought in for study?”

“I am uncertain, Sir. There seems to be some kind of dark aura emanated by the thing. It is why I wished to hear Master’s opinion.” Alucard would know just how much caution was needed. Or he’d know about how many bullets it took to dispose of the threat. Either way, they’d be as safe as they ever were.

“Very well. Permission granted. I want a full report on this, however.” Signalling her understanding with a nod, Seras scurried out of the woman’s office via trembling shadows and stood not a moment later before her master’s door. She knocked, even though she knew it was a bit early yet. But the door, unsurprisingly, opened for her. A sweltering emptiness broke out ahead of her, a bottomless pit allowing for no light, no sound, no hope; worse yet than the tightest of coffins, it should have sent Seras running for her life. Instead, she found herself drawn in. Inexorably, unrelenting, she sought him out, her shadows bleeding into the lightless space, hoping to feel her way to him.

Seras had thought about it over the years; why was it that she needed him the way she did? If she were human, if her feelings were nowhere near as sharp as they were and she not half as in tune with them, she might have been able to push her want onto the mere implacable obsession characterising the beginning phase of any so called love. God knew she’d read enough about that in books and such to see the easy parallels. Why, when the world around her claimed greater and greater distance between women and men, seeming to relish in each and every acts of pettiness, magnifying all instances of displeasure one sex caused for the other, someone like her master should have held no particular charm. At least not to Seras whose upbringing placed her squarely in a modern, secular setting, entirely removing her from antiquated ideals. If she held on to any of those standards then she had to conclude it was her reaching a hereto hidden truth. But need and want him she did; nothing would change that. Any search for a reason would only help her as far as choosing a path would. A slight, but unshakable, suspicion that vampires understood their bonds in far more different ways than humans, not only in terms of length but also in quality tied her to the hope that she had a lot left to learn and thus could expect to find an answering desire in her master. He had said, had he not, that the time had come for him not to walk alone.

Whether she had it in her to accept an eternity at his side, as in her mind she could not see herself ever leaving him, as mere childe, Seras remained unclear on. Selfishly, she had little wish to remain unacknowledged. Of course, it was well understood that a man could not be made to feel anything he did not; least of all her master. On the other hand, if he were to take umbrage with how she situated herself on the matter, what choice would she have but to leave? Not on account of pride; as far as that went, the draculina was willing to sacrifice some of it and mortify herself in his eyes, if it meant they could come together in the way she wanted. At the same time, she lacked the courage to make any such confession to his face.

“Master?” He contemplated not responding to her. Alucard blended in with the blackness, watching Seras as she poked her head into the chamber. Fine strands of white-gold shone even without the aid of light, her doe-eyed gaze still brilliantly red with the power of blood. Bravely, perhaps foolishly so, she stepped inside, shutting the door in her wake. When the shadows did not part for her with their usual graceful movements but crowded in upon his silent command, she made a weak attempt at defending herself, but gave up as soon as her wrists were caught and brought together, lashed by a thick rope of blackness. “Now‘s not a good time for games. There’s–” she was cut short by a brutal jerking motion which had her head snapping back. He’d not allowed the shadows to thread themselves through her silken tresses, but had grabbed hold with his own hand, fingers tightening around their prize.

He held fast, bringing his mouth just against her ear. “You prefer playing with humans?” Her lips parted wordlessly. The shades eased their hold some. Seras shivered against him, almost seeming to melt into his grasp, confusion radiating off of her. He twisted his fingers knowing the painful pinch her scalp would endure. Silken strands slipped through his fingers. “Whenever I would have you keep silent you pester me with questions, when I would have words out of you, you keep silent. Seems to me, pet, you think to slip your leash one small act of defiance at a time.” He freed her wrists, using his arm to pin her against him.

“I haven’t defied you,” she contradicted, her own hands reached down for his entrapping limb. One small set of fingers wrapped around his wrist, the other just downward of that point. The obstinate draculina went as far as to display her utter ignorance once more, aggravating his mood further. “I truly didn’t do a thing, master. We really don’t have time for this; someone’s left us a human heart. It feels all wrong though, this heart.” She blabbed something about its dark aura. Alucard let her be for a time, allowing the flow of words to wrap around him. Settled by her presence he waited out her speech. Sometimes it was interesting to hear just what she could come up with.

“One track mind, as always, police girl. If I told you there is no immediate danger, would that be enough for you?” Sinking back through the shadows he sat upon his chair, setting Seras on his knee; he reclaimed hold of her waist. The draculina shifted and twisted for the short span of a few moments, before partially facing him with a pout, her head turned slightly to the side.

“Not nearly enough to throw me off the subject, master, but it seems to me we should first settle your matter.” She leaned slightly back. “How in God’s name have I defied you now? Because I swear I can’t see it from where I sit.” 

“Can you not, indeed?” Her lambent gaze fixed itself upon his face, the open expression wresting unwilling clemency from his chest. “Perhaps I should enlighten you.” She remained staring at him in expectation. He pondered her in silence, moving until one arm settled at her waist and the other just a whisper lower, hand intimately placed upon her hip. Her eyes softened with awareness and perhaps not a small amount of wonder. He left the decision to her, naturally, if she wished to follow through with the suggestion, but by the way she leaned in, he rather though she might.

Soft, unguarded lips, untutored in the ways of such seduction brushed against his own. He had shamelessly peered into her thoughts before, catching something of a comparison to another kiss she’d received. His pride, always a law unto itself, had been duly gratified with the knowledge that the vast gulf between the two experiences would forever mark his performance as superior when he’d done naught but give her the most chaste of gestures. And there she was, clinging to him, returning the favour with an equally light touch.

He hated it, naturally, that she should have known the Frenchmen’s adoration, in the way any men must despise such encroachments on the women they claimed for themselves. But he knew in truth that his Seras had benefitted from the whole of it. She knew, though not quite as clearly as she soon would, that no human would sate anything more than her hunger for blood. His purpose set, Alucard coaxed her gently into furthering his claim. It was all good and well to feel her lips willingly upon his own, but, and perhaps that was his aged, impatient knowledge summoned to torment him, he needed more of her, more to conquer and lay claim to. So his hand abandoned its spot on her hip and climbed to her nape. He did not press, but merely hold his hand against her as he angled further. A soft sound responded to his efforts and his little draculina seemed to demand a firmer touch by the way she bore down upon him. He would happily grant her that.

How long had it been since he’d kissed a woman in such a way? It was assumed quite often that higher sentiment was impossible for those of their kind; mere sensuality and vulgar lusts seemed to be the accepted drivers of any relationship between those of them who would engage in such a manner. He supposed it an easy enough mistake to make, for any sort of love, as it was meant to be between man and woman unbound by common blood in a natural way, necessarily had something of lust and passion in it, even if only to have had it considered once and thereafter dismissed. Alucard rubbed gently at the tender skin adorning the back of her neck, pushing his mouth against her own with renewed vigour as soon as he felt the odious walls of her mind grow lax and permissive. He longed to bring their minds together again, to fuse them as their two bodies would soon be, as was intended and as he knew they would eventually come to be when she chose him.

He breached the thin, natural barrier of her mind just as her lips opened upon a tiny sound. He exploited her weakness ruthlessly. Teasingly, he parted his own lips, catching her lower one in embrace; his thoughts, yet veiled and lacking the true depths of his intentions, lapped at the shores of her conscience, threading with her own, leaving behind some of their claim just as her own swirled intimately in his own consciousness. The tidal wave of her desire rose not unexpectedly, the flames fanned by his own. If Seras was aware, her only response was to clutch at him harder. The fever in his veins pulsed with the unpleasant knowledge of half-satisfaction; his yearning demanded its due. But such calls, though easily satisfied, could not be seen to without proper understanding for what he had in mind. So Alucard drew away from the lips engaging his in so pleasant a duel, with only the slightest nip. The sharp intake of breath he was rewarded with was almost enough to assuage him for the time being.

Startled eyes gazed down at him. Lips painted by passion trembled. “Must you tease me about this, master?” Her voice was low, marred by something alien and quite irritating. Indeed, chagrined, she seemed to plead with him for something he could not give. He would not close his eyes to her feelings anymore than he might deny himself. To admit to her anything of his thought at such a point would only unbalance her further. “To me, at least, it is very precious.”

He put her from him then, relishing at once her momentary discontent at their parting before it was adequately swept away with the return of her barriers. “Very well, police girl. Let us see to this heart of yours.” His master had begun to grow restless; he could feel it through their bond, her insistent tugs growing more and more difficult to ignore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the radio silence. Had some health issues which prevented any dabbling into my favourite hobby. I hope this makes up for it...somewhat.


	5. Chapter 5

The inkiness of true darkness bled into the waning light, the world of deep twilight undisturbed but for the two figures standing side by side in the coppery grass. The air hummed with fine tension, collective unease gathering into very nearly palpable form. But for all that, the first of the duo seemed relaxed, even uninterested as she directed his gaze to the ground. Alucard studied the butchered heart with no apprehension. He was yet undecided as to whether he wished to give whoever it was leave to speak, but then if his suspicions proved correct, he would rather see the matter through with alacrity.

“Master?” Seras questioned gently. He felt her reach out for him, her calm cast into shadow for the moment. Instead of allowing her the boom, he kept her firmly outside his thoughts; watching her eyes widen at the rejection. She said naught in its wake, but turned her gaze to the ground as well. “Have you determined its purpose then, my master?”

He could not explain to her that some dark corners of his mind, some obsessions of his erstwhile existence lingered yet and could be roused to the forefront on such occasions as the one they found themselves in. He was not that man anymore, not even a man but in the vaguest of senses. “Indeed, I have. This, police girl, is a messenger.” Her surprise was apparent. Acting before she might put any other questions to him, Alucard picked up the heart, unsurprised when tiny needles dug into his palm. A drop of blood was all it needed, but then greed was a very common failing.

A familiar voice rang out. _Dragostea mea dinâi, o mare primejdie te paște. De vrei a știi de-a ei natură, sloboade-mi, doamne, graiul în preajma ta, iară eu voi da dovadă de credință și am să-ți mărturisesc cele de care am cunoștință._ The sweetness of the past, he mused with some amusement; she had followed his so far and risked his wrath for approaching him against his express command. It could not be a meaningless matter she wished to bring to his attention. When no further speech came forth, he crushed the heart in his fist, turning the organ to dust.

“What was that? Who is she? What did she say?” The young Draculina clasped his wrist, her grip firm. “Master!” Her demand tugged at him, pushing against the walls of his mind. He opened his fist, releasing the trapped powder to the power of the winds which blew it away.

“It was a message. I thought that much was obvious.” The answer was met with a glare. “As for the second and third, you will learn soon enough. For now, our master must hear of this.” He melted away, knowing his childe was more than capable of following. As for the lady of the house, her he found smoking, apparently unconcerned by the whole incident. Not that he wished her probing too hard. Unlike his little protégé, Integra’s demands had to be obeyed whether he willed to or otherwise.

“Well, servant?” the woman questioned, pinning him a cool stare. He felt rather than saw, Seras materialise behind him, her aura sparkling with frustration. “Go on, tell me what all this is about.” His own servant’s shadows tangled with his own on the ground, a flail-like strip of darkness leading back to her diminutive form and another to his own.

“A mere trifle. A warning, if you will, my master.” Having had very little of the truth behind the matter, Alucard decided against offering too much speculation. “Apparently. I have incurred someone’s ire.”

“You, servant? Impossible. Does it have anything to do with Seras’ mission?” The woman stood to her feet, turning to gaze out the window. “By the by, I do not see that heart you spoke of, Seras.”

“I would’ve happily brought it back, Sir. But master had other plans.” The petulant little voice behind him rose like the twitter of tiny birds before dying away, unlike her annoyance, which remained a thorn in his side as his childe projected her displeasure, rather without meaning to, he would guess.

“Not quite; it was not my sorcery to control and I take no responsibility for its workings. If I am to learn anything else on this so called threat, it might be wise to follow up on the lead.” 

“I will consider it,” Integra allowed, her dismissal quiet, ringing out only in his mind. “Seras, stay a moment, we’ve something to discuss.”

“Sir,” the police girl saluted as Alucard took his leave.

But just because he was not present in the chamber did not impede him from listening in. Their master was boring his poor childe with some details for her outing later in the night and he would have returned to his blood and brooding, were he not hit with a spike in his servant’s fear. His attention latched back onto the conversation.

Integra seemed to ignore his presence, or perhaps she could not detect it as well as she had in the past, for she continued undaunted as he settled more heavily in the back of her mind. “You don’t need to look so put out; I am only asking you to get as close to them as you possibly can.”

“But Sir, vampires are a very different thing from humans in term of seduction. Since we have nothing truly egregious on them yet, would it not be better to holds off for the time being.” Her little protest was cut off with a shake of the older woman’s head. To her credit, Seras seemed to take the chain of command rather seriously, for she said nothing more.

“I understand your discomfort and I would happily send an operative who has coped with such tasks in the past; but as a vampire surely the risk to you is lesser if it comes to it. And in point of fact, it does not matter to me how you obtain your information, as long as you do get something. Just consider this an infiltration mission.”

His Draculina obeyed, her sense of duty outweighing the fear. Her mind, however, sought him out, her frantic search a reaction to the state she’d been thrown in. Alucard indulged her, reeling her in, calling her to his side as the shadows melted and materialised, leaving him sitting in his chair. A knock on the door was soon to follow. It swung open at his silent command, allowing his childe within the chamber. Her blood-red eyes, mild and shadowed by worry, took his measure for a brief moment. “If you’ve something to say, speak.”

“Are you truly not going to follow up on that warning?” Was this an attempt to distract him? Alucard allowed himself a quiet smirk. He did not take his eyes off of Seras, nor did he make her any manner of reply. “You know her, don’t you? The woman who sent the warning.”

Her eyes narrowed when he made a show of considering the question. Since he had no wish to quarrel with her, he answered in the end. “She hasn’t been a woman in a long time, my dear police girl.” The shadows released the chair opposite his for her use and she complied with the request, taking a seat. “I know her not as she is now, but I knew her in life.” That seemed to take his fledgling aback. Her lips trembled with effort, words failing her nevertheless. “Did you not wish to know?”

Hadn’t she wanted to? Seras chided herself for a fool. She had seen the look on Alucard’s face at the first word. “Of course; I asked, didn’t I?” She wanted to drag the creature, whatever she now was, out in the open and rip her to shreds, if only because what she had seem in her sire’s face jabbed at her tender heart. Worrying her bottom lip carelessly between sharp teeth, Seras considered the wisdom of probing further. “Don’t go, master. Whatever it is, we will face it when the time comes, if ever. We don’t need her concern.” He kept the same mocking quality to his face thought her stumbling speech. She half feared he was laughing at her expense. But that she could endure; better to keep him at her side though whatever means were available to her. Bad enough that Sir Integra took up so much of his attention, she did not need some bint from his distant past to make an appearance at such a point and turn all her effort to dust.

Hoping she might impress upon him the sincerity of her request, Seras opened herself fully to his perusal, calling out to the ancient creature before her. She knew no greater mark of trust than to let him within herself. Alucard did not hesitate to take her up on that offer, latching onto her edges of her mind, pushing his way inside. Overrun, she leaned back in her seat, concentrating on allowing him the necessary space, waiting for whatever reaction he was willing to offer her. And he did not disappoint her in the least. For his wont had begun to feel familiar to her, and the same rush of warmth that had embraced her so very tightly, came then again to blanket her.

“I would not worry, police girl, were I you.” Assuming he referred to the warning, Seras blinked her confusion against such a blatant lie. He’d been wrought a short while ago for such a thing. Her master chuckled, quieter than his usual, the velvety sound a tingling stroke down her back. “You need but trust me.” The knot of trembling fear came loose, disturbed by such confidence. Of course he would not abandon her. Seras offered a smile, realising finally he spoke of her mission. Digging no deeper in spite of her wish to, she stood to her feet, feeling him slip away from the tangle of her thoughts.

“I must get ready now, my master.” Her words were met with a nod and she was off, disappearing into embrace of darkness. She materialised in her own room, looking around her surroundings, not quite certain why she got the odd feeling that something was amiss. It could not be her mission, those fears had been allayed. Pursing her lips, she bit back her discontentment. True, her master had not gratified her request with an answer and as Sir Integra had said she would consider the matter, he could not be expected to give her a true answer in any event. So why was she so very annoyed at that?

The answer, as before, settled on the nagging sensation of belonging. Her master had branded her in an inescapable way and, indeed, seemed to enjoy his claim of ownership. But she had yet to return his claim; her fearful heart was too concerned with the outcome, with the meaning behind such actions on his part. But then, Seras mused, he had kissed her. Her lips tingled with the memory. And what a kiss that had been, saying so much, with so little. She had to try, it would seem; irrespective of her concerns, she had to make her move. If he understood her regards for him, she would not be refused. She could not be, after he had taken her in.

Confidence bolstered, Seras broke out of the shackles of stillness and marched to her wardrobe in search of an appropriate dress to wear. She rummaged around, deciding against the number she had worn to their last outing. She had some pride, after all; not entirely lost to the vanity of her sex. Happily enough, her search bore fruit and she found a piece she had nearly forgotten she owned, which was rather curious as her collection was limited. Pushing the thought aside, Seas clutched the prize to her chest, closing the door on all other garments. She had some work to do.

For his part, Alucard kept close watch over the fledgling. Part of it was curiosity and part of it was need. She had the oddest way of overlooking crucial facts whenever she made her mind up about something or another. But then, at least she had made her mind up in such a way as favoured his plans. It had taken quite a lot of it to keep from solidifying his claim at the feel of her own sense of ownership awakening. He’d not hoped for such an achievement so soon, rather thinking he would have to work on her understanding of it all for years to come. What a surprising creature Seras still was. And then, since she had acknowledged his hold on her and hers on him, the need to draw closer grew in intensity. The affliction would be of some duration, he surmised; even with his childe’s newfound claim on his person, she had yet to understand the depth of such a bond as was being proposed. And he could wait her out, hoping her realisation came sooner rather than later. His thoughts turned to Katharina and her warning, puzzling over the mystery of the sudden contact.

In so many centuries she had not once disregarded his command that she keep away. What could have possibly pushed her to such desperation that she would request an audience of all things? Why not leave her message with some other Midian of the old world and content herself with that? Then again, she had been daring in life, for all the good sisters had drilled decent manners into her. Why should she be any less daring in undeath, with no ties to convents to blunt her natural inclination? He could ignore her, naturally, and in time, trouble would certainly rear its ugly head. Knowing one’s enemy was half the battle, was it not? He could make use of his master’s ambiguity and search out the answer for himself.

It could wait, he was neither so curious, nor so impatient at the moment that he had to reach a decision. Katharina would keep and so would her news.

Night had fallen in truth and with its coming all manner of creatures sprang to life. The moon would be but a crescent among the clouds, a sliver of light in a sea of darkness. A beautiful night, he held no doubts. A perfect night for the plans his master had in mind and even more for his own schemes.

His childe called out to him, a siren’s song beckoning him. His own master tugged upon their bond, urging his compliance. Since both pleasure and duty were in agreement, he wasted no more time, but dissolved the distance between them, appearing at Seras’ side, catching the greeting smile upon her painted lips. “We had best be on our way, master,” she was saying, putting her hand upon his arm, apparently unaware of his scrutiny.

“By all means, police girl, ladies first.” She gave a short laugh and proceeded ahead.

* * *

Seras gazed at her own reflexion, ostensibly preoccupied with the perfectly applied lipstick she wore. The colour, a shade or so darker than her lips, popped against the dark background provided by the bathroom tiles and her pale skin; Seras liked the overall effect. She had to admit that for someone who seldom applied cosmetics, it certainly lent her an until then missing air of grace. From the corner of her eye she caught watched the other Draculina preening in the mirror. She was a tall girl with coppery hair and soft brown eyes. A dusting of freckles adorned the bride of her nose. Her shape, discreet curves and sharp angles, would have certainly made her popular in the world of modelling when Seras had been alive. The stranger was a beautiful young woman, though, she perceived, of a not so strong bloodline. She was being observed right back, naturally. It was impossible not to be aware of such scrutiny. 

Quite suddenly, the woman smiled, turning to glance fully at Seras’ profile. “I couldn’t help but notice that shade you’re wearing. I’ve been dying to try something just like it.” Seras turned her head as well until her gaze was level with the other’s.

“I thought it was a bit too light for me when I bought it. It turns out, however, it’s quite perfect.” She looked away a moment, long enough to open her small purse and draw out the tube. Holding it out to the other, she gave a soft nod, “Feel free to try it yourself.”

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to put you out.” Nevertheless, her hand reached out until long fingers had taken possession of Seras’ lipstick. “I’m Adria, by the way.”

“Seras,” she answered, watching the other wipe away her earlier shade and then replacing with the one she’d offered. The effect was immediate. “Oh my, it looks excellent on you.”

“It’s one of those colours,” Adria laughed, handing the trinket back. “Thank you.” Small crinkles at the corners of her eyes appeared as her lips stretched in a friendly smile. “Are you out on the hunt too? This should be a good night; the club is packed.”

It wasn’t an entirely new scenario. She’d had variations upon this conversation a few times before. “I’m not desperate to tell you truly, but I could do with a light snack. I’ve heard this is the best place to be for such a thing.”

“Definitely.” Adria pumped her fist in the air, as she went on, “You didn’t hear this from me, but there’s a list of donors. You only have to tell them what you’re looking for. They have everything. You can even get it fresh.”

“Fresh?” she feigned surprise.

“Yes, they’ll draw it out before your very own eyes.” Adria looped her hand around Seras’ shoulders in conspiratorial fashion, “I can get you in and even your partner if it comes to that.” Surprise flickered across her face. “What? Did you think I was blind? You’d have to succumb to true death not to notice him.”

“Can’t disagree with that,” Seras laughed. Was it too late to bash Adria’s face into the mirror’s glass? That would compromise the mission. “Fair warning though, he can be a bit arrogant at time.” More like every blessed minute of the night; but she expected it would be understood all too soon.

“All the best ones are. You should see my brother; a more self-important man has never walked this earth, I vow.” Tittering, Adria released her shoulders. “So, interested?”

“In your brother, not at all; in that fresh blood, very much so.” They giggled together, seemingly having formed the necessary bond to propel them further. Now, to get her master to go along, Seras thought, existing the bathroom at Adria’s side.

She found him leaning against a wall, arms crossed, ostensibly awaiting her return. He didn’t even blink when she returned with company. _Play nice, master._ Her words earned her a ripple of something.

 _Don’t I always?_ His answer rang out in her head even as the necessary introductions droned on. Adria was quick to extend him the same invitation she’d given Seras. Her master seemed mildly interested, to his credit, and was rather polite when he accepted, although the thought that he might need their help finding sustenance was laughable. 

As they departed for the upper levels of the establishment, Adria leaned in and whispered, “You’re one lucky girl. They don’t make them like this anymore, you know.” That very nearly set her off into a flurry of giggles. Of course they didn’t. One of her master was more than enough for the world. Although it was a pity about his kind of man being a dying breed.

 _What is so amusing, police girl?_ The question startled her.

She must have been grinning. Seras schooled her features, nodding Adria’s way. _I was just contemplating your merits, master._ There, let him make what he would of that. Slamming the gateway between them shut, she turned her attention to the other female. There was hardly any reasonable cause for which to inflate the Midian’s ego any further. To her eternal gratitude, he did not push her further, but seemed intent on taking in the workings of the little operation before them.

A number of vampires were present above. Amid their numbers were some humans, both male and female. No one was a ghoul, as far as Seras could tell, and certainly no great troubles made themselves apparent with the blood they were served. She drank from hers trustingly, happy with its quality. Adria hadn’t lied about it being fresh. Her master seemed to likewise enjoy his portion.

 _Do you recognise any of the bloodlines here, master?_ She questioned after a time. They’d been mingling with the gathering of vampires with great success.

 _Not as such._ That was good as well, Seras considered. It meant they’d not be much of a bother should a fight break out. She relaxed against Alucard, her frame settling against his like puzzle pieces coming together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation "My erstwhile love, a great danger shadows you. If you wish to know its nature, give me leave, my liege, to speak in your presence, and I shall give proof of faith and confess to you which I have knowledge of."
> 
> It's a bit useless to look this up on google translate, as some of the meanings are not primary and as such, you'll get a very funny rendition which will mean very little. I cringe a bit inside every time my poor language is butchered in fics, but then I remember that I too sometimes butcher the very fine English language, so all is forgiven. :) And yes, if you are wondering, it is Romanian from an actual Romanian, albeit as I said, don't expect anyone to actually speak like this now.
> 
> In the future, translations will be provided in the chapter notes. I will not overdo it with the Romanian, so don't worry too much.
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed the chapter.


End file.
